


Germania

by Blue_Night



Series: The Adventures of the Roman Legatus Marcus Retus and his Friends [8]
Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction, Rome
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Reality History, Anal Sex, Ancient Germania, Ancient Rome, Anger, Angry Sex, Angst, Developing Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fights, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Love/Hate, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rough Sex, Roughness, partly historical inaccuracy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-24 16:11:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 45,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8378845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Night/pseuds/Blue_Night
Summary: Marcus Retus is the first centurion of Legatus Robertus Levantus, the military commander of the important city Augusta Treverorum settled in West Germania. Marcus loves Robertus with all his heart, but all the dark-haired officer seems to want from him is sex, and Marcus has to hide his true feelings from his superior.Will Robertus ever love him back, or will his seeming inability to love another man destroy not only their professional relationship but also Marcus' love for him?





	1. Men Don't Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> This here is probably nothing anyone really wants to read, and I also know that I shouldn't start another WIP, but I am really not well at the moment, and this is what came out when I searched for a valve for my feelings. I'm always going back to my beloved Roman Marcus Retus then, as it seems...  
> Marcus Retus and Robertus Levantus have some unfinished business, and I guess I owe them their own story where they can (hopefully) become true lovers and have a happy end. I have to admit that I am not sure how this will end and if I will continue with this fic, it will probably depend on how I feel about it when I'm better again.
> 
> The first chapter of this story is something I have written a long time ago for my two original characters James McBride and Daniel Spark, only in a slightly different (modern) setting. It is what I'm always going back to when I'm really feeling down, and I found it very fitting for an ancient historical story about two high-ranking Roman soldiers. Male homosexuality was only accepted in Rome between Romans and pleasure slaves, not between Roman citizens like senators or officers for example. I'm also aware that Romans normally have three names, but I decided to go with the Roman synonyms that match best with the real names of our footballers, therefore, only the original characters will have three names.  
> This story is settled in Germania again, starting in Augusta Treverorum (Trier), but Mogontiacum (Mainz) will take place in here, as well. It starts several years after the battle in the Teutoburger Forest with Tiberius as the emperor again, just like my other Marcus Retus' stories.
> 
> Warning for rough and angry sex in this story, Marcus' and Robertus' relationship is defined by anger, hate and suppressed feelings at the beginning, so be prepared for angst, grief and heartache as much as for hard sex, partly non-consensual. This story will probably contain only little fluff.
> 
> If you would like to read more about Marcus and Robertus, please let me know, getting your feedback would mean a lot to me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus and Robertus have sex in Marcus' bedchamber, and Marcus struggles with his feelings and their daily business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marcus and Robertus have a secret, sexual relationship for some time when this story begins, but there will be some flashbacks to explain how they came to that point where this story starts along the way.

List of the characters and their names (continued with new characters showing up):

 

Marco Reus: Marcus Retus, first centurion serving in Augusta Treverorum under Legatus Robertus Levantus' command

Robert Lewandowski: Legatus Robertus Levantus, military commander of the city of Augusta Treverorum in West Germania

Sven Bender: centurion Severus Benignus, of lower rank than Marcus and one of his friends

Mario Götze: Marius Gordianus, a young optio and one of Marcus' friends.

 

***

 

The room was gloomy despite the pale light of the noon sun falling through the window under the wooden ceiling, the opening too small to really enlighten the bedchamber of first centurion Marcus Retus, but the resident of this room hadn't bothered to ignite the candles attached to the wall. He didn't need much light for what he was doing in this moment, the gloomy atmosphere matching perfectly with his rather dark mood.

The bed placed before the wall opposite the square hole supposed to provide the room with daylight and fresh air creaked in the rhythm of the two moving men, the only sounds audible except for the harsh but yet quiet breathing of the man lying underneath the other one.

Marcus Retus opened his eyes just to find Legatus Robertus Levantus staring down at him with an impassive face, watching him silently as he fucked him deep and hard. They were both naked, their in the pale light shimmering skin covered with the sweat of their arousal, Marcus' for a true Roman astonishing fair skin contrasting nicely with Robertus' tanned flesh. The older man with the dark curls and the piercing blue eyes didn't take his eyes off his face as he changed the angle to push deeper, each rough snap of his narrow hips serving to hit the sensitive knob inside Marcus' tight passage with the tip of his hard member now.

His commander braced his flat palms against the mattress at each side of his centurion's head, and Marcus knew that it was not to avoid crushing him with his weight – because he would easily bear Robertus' weight as the trained soldier he actually was. No, Levantus kneeling between his spread legs without embracing him or lying on top of him was only meant to avoid touching Marcus more than absolutely necessary.

Robertus never allowed Marcus to touch or kiss him, because men didn't touch or kiss other men, they only fucked. This was what he said and how he lived, and Marcus would better never forget that if he wanted to be fucked by him in the future, as well.

The blond centurion kept his own face as stoic as he was able to with the other Roman battering his sweet spot and literally pounding him into the mattress, biting on the inner sides of his cheeks until he could taste blood to keep the low moans of desire inside, his way of taking revenge for Robertus not wanting to touch and to kiss him, because he knew that the commander craved to hear his sounds of pleasure and arousal.

His abused hole was still sore and sensitive from their last encounter two days ago, but he welcomed the burn and the pain that distracted him from the tight feeling in his chest. Marcus closed his fingers around Robertus' upper arms, digging his nails into the tanned skin over the hard muscles, and the satisfaction he felt when he pulled a silent hiss from his commander with that almost took him by surprise.

After all this time, he should have gotten used to Robertus never making any sound when he took him, but he still seemed to hope that the commander would lose his iron self-control one day and let the mask slip. Which he never did, but Marcus simply couldn't stop trying to provoke him enough that he finally would yet do him the favor at least once.

The legatus was still watching him, his piercing gaze burning a hole in his face as if he was trying to reach his mind and read his thoughts. Robertus was always watching him when he fucked him, noticing every reaction, as tiny as it might be, and he never closed his eyes to focus on his own pleasure, the only proof that he must feel at least some arousal being the incredible hardness of his weapon thrusting into his first centurion to almost split him in two.

Marcus knew far too well what would come next. Robertus would feel the clenching of his walls and see the tiniest hint in his face that he was nearing his orgasm, the brief twitching of a muscle on his cheek, the tightening of his jawline, or the darkening of his amber-green eyes. The older Roman soldier would see it and stop in his relentless pummeling for one moment, keeping Marcus on the edge of his climax for as long as it pleased him without allowing his centurion to fall over it and come.

Robertus went still above him for a couple of seconds just when Marcus had thought that he wouldn't play his favorite game this time, and the tight grip of his right hand loosened around the legatus' upper arm to its own will, darting to his rock hard and aching manhood to ease the pain in his balls by finishing himself.

“No!”

The short word was only a low growl, and Robertus smacked his hand away from his cock with something akin to wrath, his eyes narrowed in anger and displeasure. Marcus lifted his chin up in defiance, and his own anger wasn't less heated than Robertus', his teeth gritting against each other as his jaw clenched painfully.

Sometimes, Marcus wondered how he could love and hate Robertus Levantus at the same time with such force without actually losing his mind.

He had fallen in love with the handsome and impressive commander right at first sight, the minute he had entered his office to announce his arrival. Levantus was one of the youngest legati ever, and that the emperor trusted him with the command over Augusta Treverorum spoke for itself. Marcus had felt honored and he had been giddy with anticipation and curiosity when he had been given the chance to serve under Robertus' command, gladly accepting that he had to leave his beloved Rome to live in the cold climate of Germania to do that. His friends had called him a fool, but Marcus hadn't cared, determined to grab this chance and become the commander of a large fortified camp himself at a young age. Germania was his best chance for that, and he had packed his things and left the capital of Rome where the sun was always shining without one glance back.

If he had only known...

Marcus still remembered the moment the dark-haired commander had slowly raised his head to look at him without speaking, his face as impassive as it was now, but his blue eyes looking straight into his soul. The young centurion had swallowed, thinking that the sudden and unexpected flutter tingling in his abdomen was only a sign of his understandable nervousness. It had taken him five more meetings with his new commander and several dreams about Legatus Robertus Levantus he had woken up from with a raging hard-on to realize that the tingling was desire for the other man.

At first he had hoped that the desire would go away but instead, it had turned into love, deep and desperate, overwhelming love.

He had never told him how much he loved him, Robertus had made perfectly clear right from the start that for him, it was only sex.

“Don't you ever dare doing that again,” the dark-haired commander had said when Marcus had tried to kiss him one single time during their first passionate encounter, his voice sounding even more threatening and dangerous because of its calmness. “Why not?” Marcus had asked, hating it how much his own voice had trembled because of the harsh and unexpected rejection.

“Men don't kiss. They don't touch. They fuck,” Robertus had replied in this horribly flat voice. “You are a man and not a pleasure slave or a whining toy boy who needs to be coddled. You're a brave soldier of the Roman empire, your men trust you with their lives. Kisses and touches only serve to let a man become weak and a coward!” Robertus' hard grip around his chin had hurt, but Marcus hadn't pulled away, only stared back at him, his eyes glowing defiantly, and he had never tried to kiss or touch him in any other way than just gripping his arms for support again.

Marcus still loved the other man with the same force, but in moments like this one, he also hated him with all his heart.

Robertus started to move again, his intense blue gaze traveling to the spot where Marcus was biting his lips to stay silent. For the split of a second, a strange emotion flickered over his handsome male features, but it was gone before Marcus was able to recognize it. He felt the pleasure building at the end of his spine for a second time with a feeling of frustration, knowing that Levantus wouldn't grant him his release so soon. He closed his eyes, unable to meet the commander's glance without revealing his true feelings any longer, and he hated himself for his easy defeat. His balls were hurting because of the unbearable tension caused by being kept on the edge of coming for far too long, and when Robertus stopped for the third time just before he reached the point of no return, Marcus finally couldn't stand it anymore and gave the other man what he wanted.

“Damn it, Robertus, let me come!”

The dark-haired legatus snarled contentedly, picking up the pace and wrapping his calloused hand around Marcus' aching cock to stroke it roughly in time to his thrusts. The young centurion spurted his ecstasy all over his fingers the moment they touched him, his walls clenching painfully around the hard member buried to the hilt inside him.

Marcus' teeth biting down hard on his bottom lip ripped the soft flesh open, but the blond centurion didn't care about the small wound. All he cared about was Robertus' allowing his self-control to slip for one tiny moment, and he looked up at the beautiful, stony face hovering above him despite his from his forceful orgasm blurred vision to catch the sight of the legatus screwing his face in ecstasy as he released himself into Marcus' shuddering body. Robertus Levantus made always sure that he came when his centurion was trapped in his own bliss, but the younger Roman had learned to control himself enough to witness Robertus' climax at least from time to time.

It was over soon enough, and the dark-haired commander of Augusta Treverorum pulled out and climbed off him the second he had finished. Marcus lay there, watching him crossing the room to walk to the table with the bowl filled with cold water Marcus used to clean himself up when he didn't have enough time for a bath. He followed Robertus' well-shaped figure with his gaze, admiring the play of the worked-out muscles of Robertus' back and ass. The commander cleaned himself up with his back to Marcus before pulling his short drawers over his legs and his tunic over his head. He tied the leather cord around his slim waist and sat down on the chair before the table to fasten the laces of his sandals, looking at Marcus still lying motionless in his bed from under his thick eyelashes.

“I expect you to be punctual to our meeting with the other officers, Marcus,” he remarked, his voice calm and not the slightest hoarseness or breathlessness betraying his satisfaction as he went back to their daily business without further ado.

Marcus narrowed his eyes. He could feel Robertus' semen dripping out of his tender hole, the only evidence and reminder of what had happened in this room only a couple of minutes ago. “When have I ever been not punctual, Robertus?” he asked, not bothering to hide his annoyance about Levantus' insinuation.

Robertus hesitated. “Never so far. I'm just saying, Marcus. I don't want the others to think that I'm being too soft on you.”

Marcus snorted, staring at the dark, wooden timbers forming the ceiling of his chamber. “You never are, commander, have never been, don't worry.”

There was a short, uncomfortable silence between them, and Marcus could feel Robertus' attentive and sharp eyes on his face, but he refused to give him what he wanted this time and kept staring at the ceiling instead.

Finally, the commander stoop up and made his way to the door. “See you later, Marcus.”

Marcus heard him opening and closing the door and then, he was alone again, alone with his love, his hate and his grief.

 

***

 

“Marcus! Where have you been? I have waited for you in the arena. Have you forgotten that we wanted to train together?” Severus greeted him when he joined his companions in the officer's mess four hours later. Marcus still wore his light armor, and he had only washed his face and his hands and wiped the dust from his sandals. It was early summer, but the sun shining onto the thick forests and the green hills of West-Germania was pale and weak compared to the sun bathing the proud capital of the Roman empire in its bright golden-white light, and most of the Roman soldiers serving at the north frontier never stopped complaining about the cold and the rain.

Marcus wasn't one of them, he loved Germania, and he didn't need to wrap himself in woolen coats or wear boots instead of sandals when he left the garrison to patrol in the streets of the city.

He eyed the bowl with the chicken and the vegetables being their dinner on this evening, carefully sitting down on the hard chair at the small side of the table. Marcus had spent the last two hours in the saddle of his beloved stallion Thunder, and the long ride had increased the sore feeling in his private parts, but he didn't let his discomfort show as he pulled the bowl close to him and picked up his spoon.

“The commander wants us to patrol the city more often after the latest rumors about some renegades, and I wanted to see for myself if we need to increase the number of the parties patrolling in the streets,” he answered, returning the gaze of the other centurion. He was higher ranking than Severus, but he had every right to feel annoyed because Marcus had left the camp without informing him bout their canceled training.

It was only that Marcus had desperately needed to regain his composure, staying away from Robertus for some hours, and the chances that the dark-haired commander decided to watch the training fights had been pretty high. Marcus had preferred to leave the camp and control the city himself, not wanting to leave this important task to anyone else.

Severus regarded him with a thoughtful expression, directing his gaze at Marcus' bitten lip for the split of a second before looking him in the eyes again. “Did the commander mention that during our meeting? I can't remember that he talked about that this afternoon.”

Marcus cursed inwardly. He really needed to be more careful in the future. “No, he didn't. He had mentioned these rumors on one occasion one or two days ago, shortly after Publius Flavius Secundus' celebration.”

Severus pursed his lips. “I see,” he said, his face giving nothing away of what he thought, but his eyes wandered back to Marcus' mouth, and the first centurion had a hard time with not averting his own glance from his friend and fake insouciance.

Publius Flavius Secundus was the richest and most important resident of the city of Augusta Treverorum, the merchant who sold his goods even to the emperor himself, his furs and slaves always being of highest quality. Two days ago, he had celebrated the birthday of his daughter Claudia Selena Secunda, and he had invited Robertus Levantus to this party like usually. Only Robertus Levantus, of course, Publius Flavius Secundus didn't want to risk that his daughter perhaps caught the eye of a simple centurion. It was an open secret that he hoped for Robertus becoming his son-in-law, and he didn't miss any opportunity to invite the good-looking commander to his parties or visit him in his private quarters to talk about business and the political situation with him.

Robertus came to Marcus' quarters after each party, fucking him hard, fast and rough as if he sought forgetting from something Marcus didn't know what it was. The birthday celebration had been no exception from the rule, and the rumors about the renegades had slipped Robertus' lips before he had been able to stop himself. The dark-haired legatus had been in a strange mood after their encounter, and he had even stayed a little bit longer than usual, lying beside Marcus without touching him and staring at the ceiling with a melancholic expression in his eyes. Marcus had remained silent, only watched the older Roman and listened to him, his heart heavy in his chest when Robertus had abruptly gotten out of bed and left him without even one last glance.

“Maybe we can train together tomorrow in the afternoon, then?” the other blond asked after a little eternity, finally smiling at Marcus. The young centurion relaxed, hoping that his returning smile didn't resemble too much a pained grimace. “Of course, Severus. I am sorry that I didn't inform you. You know how important our training is for me, don't you?”

Severus nodded his head, starting to eat again. “Of course, I know that, Marcus,” he replied softly, going back to their daily business of having to protect the large and important Roman city settled rather deep in the Teuton and Celtic territories. “Have you found something unusual? Do you think that the rumors are true?”

“No, I didn't, but we should be careful and watch out, anyway. Most of the Teuton tribes are still embroiled in their own battles and fights, but we can never be sure about them not trying to attack us again. They might not try to attack Augusta Treverorum itself, but our patrols, Roman travelers and the caravans providing us with supplies.”

One of the other four officers sitting at the table turned his head to follow their conversation. Marius was had the rank of an optio, but Marcus was sure that he would become a centurion within the next two years, he might be young, but he was a skilled and brave fighter and had an easy way of making friends among his underlings and getting their loyalty and trust.

“We will be careful, centurion,” the younger Roman now said, “I will see to more men patrolling the city, we should increase the number and send out four men with each group instead of only two.”

Marcus gave him a short nod of approval. “Yes, do that, Marius.” He pushed his bowl and his spoon aside and stood up. “I'm in my office, I have to see to some paperwork,” he excused himself, craving to leave the wardroom and flee from the appraising glances of the other officers. If they decided to take a closer look, their trained senses would notice the traces Robertus had left on his body and his soul, not the obvious ones like his semen Marcus had washed away hours ago, but the not so obvious ones like the haunted expression in his eyes or his own bite-mark on his lips. Robertus had laid his claim on him, invisible at first sight, bit quite apparent for all those who knew him long enough. Marcus had seen the way Severus had stared at his lips for one second, and he was too exhausted to keep his stern mask in place for much longer. He needed to get out of here, and he needed to get out now.

The young centurion turned around, forcing himself to walk in a rather slow pace instead of starting to run, and his nails dug painfully into his palms. It was only outside the hall when he realized that he had held his breath, and he inhaled shakily as he crossed the court to go to his small office and light up the candles before he would sit down on his desk and start to read the last reports.

Marcus was so caught up in his striving to reach his shelter that he didn't notice the dark figure partly hidden behind one of the pillars carrying the roof of Legatus Levantus' villa watching him, a pair of astonishing blue eyes following his every move until he had finally disappeared behind the closed door of his office.


	2. Nightly Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius visits Marcus in his quarters, and Robertus decides to take a midnight bath...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your awesome and wonderful feedback for the first chapter of my new Marcus Retus-story, my dear readers. It has been such a long time since I have gotten so many comments and kudos for one of my stories, and they have made me incredibly happy. Each of your comments and kudos is cherished and loved, and it has made me so happy that you're still appreciating my writing. :'-)  
> Please, keep your wonderful support and feedback up, your comments and kudos help me as much through the rough and stormy hardships as writing this story does. Your support has always been my biggest motivation to go on with writing and posting, and knowing that there are still readers liking my stories, which I had seriously started to doubt, warms my heart. <33
> 
> I also want to say that the credit for me having started to write another Leweus story go to lovely Janie94 and mariothellama, their stories 'Let The Right One In' and 'Let The Poison Out' convinced me to give this story a try, I had had the idea in mind for some time, but their stories were the last push I had needed.
> 
> Chapter warning: this chapter includes a scene at the end which some of you might consider rape, it is more non-intruding fight-sex, I guess, but surely not really consensual this time. My Robertus is neither a criminal nor a bad guy, he is a brave Roman soldier trapped in his views and thinking and the Roman culture, and you will learn more about his past and why he behaves the way he does along the way. Please bear with him and me, things will get a little bit better within the next chapters.

Robertus Levantus watched the young optio entering the large house where the quarters of the higher ranking officers were housed, his throat tight and his hands clenched to fists behind his back. His first centurion Marcus Retus had left his office a while ago, with slumped shoulders and surprisingly unguarded features as he had made his way to his private chamber.

It had been obvious that Marcus hadn't noticed that Robertus was watching him, which spoke for itself, because the blond Roman was the best centurion who had ever served under his command; and his sharp and well-trained senses alarmed him most of the times when somebody was watching him, a very useful ability that could be life-saving on many occasions.

That Marcus hadn't realized that Robertus was watching him, hidden in the dark shadows behind the pillars of his villa, was a clear sign how exhausted and confused his centurion must feel, because Marcus normally always knew it when another living being was watching him, no matter whether it was an animal or another human, friend or enemy. Robertus' heart clenched painfully by the memory of the defeated expression on the beautiful blond's face, but he suppressed both, the memory haunting him against his will and his own bad conscience about him being the one responsible for Marcus' state.

Instead, he gritted his teeth by the thought of what was about to happen in Marcus' bedroom, and Robertus' face hardened by the mere thought of it. The young optio Marius had visited his superior in his bedchamber almost every third day over the past weeks, and the dark-haired legatus felt hot ire pooling in his abdomen that replaced his bad conscience and sympathy within an instant.

Marcus Retus was his, no matter whether he wanted it or not, and no unimportant optio would take him away from him, as handsome and desirable as he might be. Robertus was determined to remind his centurion of this important fact very soon, and he would also make sure that Marcus Retus would never forget whom he belonged to, now and in the future.

 

***

 

Marcus sat on his bed when Marius entered his chamber without even bothering to wait for the “come in!” after his short knock, too tired to undress or even move. The blond Roman looked up at the younger one, peering at him from under his eyelashes with bloodshot eyes.

“Your sense of politeness is something you're still having to work on, Marius,” he stated dryly when Marius unceremoniously pulled one of the two chairs close to the bed, sitting down on it opposite the blond Roman with his arms resting comfortably on the backrest and his chin resting comfortably on his folded arms. “My sense of politeness is fine, Marcus,” he shrugged with a crooked grin and sparkling eyes, “you'd never deny me access to your room, anyway. You're far too happy to see me!” he joked, causing Marcus to roll his eyes, but at least, his jaw unclenched as his hands balled in his lap did.

“You seem to be very sure about that,” he older soldier sighed, and Marius shrugged again. “I am. I know that you love me, of course you are happy about me visiting you.” He tilted his head to the side when Marcus averted his eyes and stared at the wall behind Marius, struggling to keep his composure. “You know what how I meant it, Marcus, don't you? You are my friend and I will always be your friend, nothing more, nothing less. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you sad.” He reached out with his hand to gently stroke Marcus' tensed shoulder, and the blond centurion smiled at him. “Yes, I know how you meant it. You are not the one making me sad. I am honored and glad to call you my friend, Marius. Friends are a rare and precious treasure, and I value your friendship, highly. It's only...”

Marius nodded. “Yes, I know, you don't have to explain yourself, Mars,” he said, using the nickname he had given his friend, and Marcus laid his own hand about Marius' still resting on his shoulder for a brief moment. For a while, they stayed like this before Marcus braced his forearms against his thighs and interlaced his fingers, hanging his head low to regard the floor before his bed. The wooden parquet was shimmering in the light of the three candles he had lit, and Marcus followed the wavy grain of the oaken panels with his eyes.

“Have you ever thought about telling him that you love him, Mars?” Marius finally broke the silence, and Marcus shook his head without raising his head. “He has made it perfectly clear that he isn't interested in my feelings. He wouldn't even care if I slept with someone else. Men don't kiss and touch, and they surely don't love other men. They just fuck, and only if there are no women available.” The young centurion flinched by the sound of his own voice, he hadn't realized how much bitterness he felt about Robertus' indifference towards him.

“Hm.” Marius tapped with his foot on the floor. “I am not convinced that the commander wouldn't care about you sleeping with someone else. I couldn't help but notice the strange looks he's been giving me lately. He must have learned about my nightly visits of your quarters, and he seemed to be pissed off by them.”

Marcus shot him a quick look with narrowed eyes before staring down at the floor again. A small insect had found its way into his chamber, and Marcus watched it crawling over the trading floor until it disappeared under his bed. He mused briefly about killing it, but the insect seemed to be one of the harmless kind of specimen, and he might be a soldier, but he didn't find it pleasurable to kill innocent and harmless creatures. “Why should the legatus be pissed off by you visiting me?” he wanted to know, and he hated it that his heart had started to beat faster right after Marius' statement.  
It couldn't be that he was still stupid enough to hope that Robertus would love him back one day, could it?

“He's most likely thinking that you and I are sleeping with each other.” Marius sounded nonchalantly, but his voice had a slight undertone. The blond centurion raised his head to regard him more attentively. “If you're trying to make Robertus Levantus jealous with your visits, then I have to tell you that it won't work. He would have to feel something for me to become jealous, and that's not the case. All he wants is someone he can fuck until he has found the perfect wife.”

“If you say so...” Marius didn't seem to be convinced. “Do you think that he will take Secundus' daughter as his wife? Her father at least seems to think that Robertus will become his son-in-law...”

Marcus clenched his fingers that tightly that he feared they would break. “I don't know. Robertus Levantus doesn't talk about his decisions with me, not about the decisions concerning his private life, that is.” His voice was rough and trembled too much for his liking, and Marius stroked over his shoulder again.

“You know where to find me when you need someone to talk, Mars, and you don't have to fear that I will betray your trust, I would never do that,” he said gently, and Marcus looked up at him, hoping that Marius wouldn't notice how close he was too tears. “Yes, I know, Marius, thank you.”

The shorter man hesitated for a moment before he finally stood up. “Good night, Marcus, you should try to catch some sleep. Your exhaustion doesn't go unnoticed.”

“Yes, I will,” the blond centurion promised, watching his friend walking to the door where he turned around to smile at him. “Good night, Marius,” he wished, waiting until the door had closed behind the young optio before burying his face in his hands and starting to cry.

 

***

 

Robertus was a soldier with every fiber of his being, and he realized soon that sleep wouldn't come to him, not with the pictures of Marcus lying in his bed on top of Marius, kissing him and fucking him, passionately, before his mind's eyes. The dark-haired legatus swallowed audibly to keep the wistful sigh inside that wanted to flee his throat, getting up from his bed with the crumpled sheets and blankets to take a midnight bath. Maybe, the warm water would calm him down enough that he could sleep without any dreams or nightmares afterwards.

His villa within the walls of the garrison was not as large and magnificent as his house in Rome was, but he had a house on his own with a private bathroom. The officers and legionaries serving under his command had to share the bath housed in a smaller building next to the large house where the highest ranking officers had their quarters, and it was locked during the night. The few slaves and servants seeing to his needs and his well-being were already sleeping, and Robertus didn't bother to wake one of them up, he wanted to be alone and undisturbed. The impressive legatus headed through the corridor, frowning when he found the door leading to his private bathroom ajar and the torches attached to the wall burning as he stepped over the threshold. He would have to have a word with Rufus, his personal slave and housekeeper that he had forgotten to quench the torches, it was too dangerous to let them burn during the night unattended.

His step faltered when he turned around the corner of the small vestibule where he normally left his clothes when he wanted to take a bath, realizing that he wasn't the only one who had had the idea of taking a nightly bath.

The man who haunted him day and night had had the same idea, swimming laps in his private pool.

Robertus stared at the naked figure, admiring the play of the muscles of Marcus' back and shoulders as he watched the young centurion crossing the pool to turn around at the other end and swim in his direction again. His body reacted to the beautiful and tempting sight and his manhood stirred, tenting the small loincloth he wore and his short, sleeveless tunic.

The older Roman tightened his jaw and silently glided closer, a beautiful and dangerous black panther creeping up on his prey. Marcus instincts were obviously still dulled, because Robertus had almost reached the pool when he turned around to look at him, stopping in his laps and treading water.

For a rather long time, they kept staring at each other, neither of them wanting to give in and be the first one to break the heavy silence. When it was clear that Marcus wouldn't give him the satisfaction of being the first to start speaking, Robertus folded his naked arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes at the younger man.

“What are you doing here in the middle of the night, Marcus?” His voice was calm – too calm. His first centurion lifted his chin up, his wonderful amber-green eyes sparkling with defiance and a tiny muscle twitching in his jaw.

By Jupiter and all Roman Gods, how Robertus desired this man! Marcus Retus was a fever in his blood, the only human being that could make the proud and controlled legatus Robertus Levantus lose his self-control and burn with desire.

“You allowed me to use your bath, Robertus. You didn't say that I wasn't allowed to use it in the evening,” Marcus finally gave back, his voice flat and impassive but with a hint of his defiance.

“It might have slipped your attention that it is already night, Marcus,” Robertus stated unmoved, not willing to give up the advantage of his position.

The blond centurion lowered his eyes down. “I couldn't sleep,” he admitted, sounding defeated instead of defiant now. Robertus stared at the damp shock of thick, red-golden hair, feeling new anger welling up in his guts.

“So you wanted to use my bath to wash away the traces of your encounter with your underling, centurion?” he heard himself snarling before he knew what he was doing.

Marcus' head snapped up, and he stared at Robertus with an incredulous expression in his eyes. The young centurion had paled, his eyes glowing dangerously in his snow-white face.

“Pardon me?” he asked, his voice still flat, but with a sharp edge.

Robertus knew that he had gone too far, but he simply couldn't back away now. “You heard me, Marcus,” he managed through gritted teeth.

Marcus Retus narrowed his eyes to small slits as he swam to the edge of the pool. “You mean like you're always using _my_ water bowl to wash away the traces from your encounter with _your_ underling, _commander_?” He hauled himself out of the pool, starting off towards the exit without bothering that he was wet and naked, small trickles of water running down on his back and butt.

He brushed against Robertus with his arm and the dark-haired legatus grabbed it without thinking, pulling him roughly against his strong frame. “I didn't allow you to leave, centurion!” he hissed, blocking Marcus' way out by trapping him between the tiled wall next to the antechamber and his own hot body.

“I'm not on duty, Robertus! You have no right to tell me what I can do and what I cannot do! Let go of me!” Marcus growled, trying to push him away. His hands were too slippery, though, and he was clearly exhausted, Robert could keep him in place rather easily.

“I'm still your commander, and you have used my bath to clean yourself up after sleeping with your optio, Marcus! Tell me, is he as good as I am? Is he able to satisfy you like I do? Or is he even better than me? Tell me Marcus, does Marius Gordianus make you moan and pant like I do?”

Marcus' flat hand met his cheek before he could react, his chest heaving with his raged breathing. Robertus' head was shoved to the side, and he could taste blood in his mouth where his teeth had torn the soft flesh of the inner side of his cheek. He blinked against the stars the hard smack made him see for a short moment, slowly turning his head around again to stare at his centurion.

The younger Roman looked at him, his face still snow-white and his eyes unnatural big. “Was that a yes, Marcus? Are you angry because I've caught you? Because I've eventually revealed your little secret? Just tell me, is it because he allows you to kiss him? Is that the reason why you're taking him in your bed?”

Marcus swallowed, frozen in place, and a hot and powerful wave of possessiveness and overwhelming desire washed over the dark-haired legatus. “You want to kiss? Fine, you've finally won, Marcus, I'll give you what you want!” Robertus growled, the mere thought of Marcus kissing Marius, touching him and caressing him sending another wave of red fury through his veins. He bent forward and pressed his lips on Marcus' mouth, hard, angrily and passionately.

The blond centurion made a strangled sound as the kiss yanked him out of his dazed state, and he started to fight against the furious man, hammering with his fists against Robertus' linen-covered chest. Robertus' kiss wasn't a real kiss, it was more a punishment than anything else as he forced Marcus' soft lips open and pushed his tongue deep inside the tempting cavern to claim it as his rightful territory. Marcus tried to turn his head around and pull away, but Robertus was stronger and less exhausted than his desperate subordinate, and when his struggles became weaker, Robertus' kiss became less angry and more passionate. The younger man whined softly when Robertus' teeth grazed over the torn flesh of his bottom lip, and the legatus made a hushing sound and loosened his hard and tight grip around Marcus' naked shoulders a little bit, licking and stroking every spot in his mouth within his reach. The younger man didn't respond to the kiss, but he also didn't try to bite him, and Robertus' passionate onslaught on his lips and senses had finally the desired effect.

The blond centurion might sleep with his young optio and fight against Robertus, but he still desired him, the pressure of Marcus' hard manhood against Robertus' thigh betraying his arousal. The dark-haired legatus pulled back from his bruised mouth and turned him around in his arms until he was facing the wall.

“Robertus not, don't do that! Let me go! You've already had your fuck today!” Marcus snarled, wriggling to pull out of Robertus' tight embrace, but the older Roman wrapped his left arm around Marcus' upper arms and chest to keep him in place and pulled his loincloth to the side with the right to push his hard and throbbing member between Marcus' wet thighs.

“Robertus, no, I can't...., leave me alone!” the young centurion ground out, but he went silent when Robertus enclosed his cock with his fingers, stroking up and down on it almost tenderly. The dark-haired legatus pressed his well-shaved cheek against Marcus' slightly stubbly one, trying to catch a look at the centurion's face. The blond Roman had closed his eyes, and he pressed his lips to a thin line to keep his moans inside.

Robertus' throat tightened with his own overwhelming emotions, the feeling of Marcus' hard manhood pulsing in his fingers arousing him as much as the sensation of the strong-muscled thighs of his centurion rubbing over his own shaft with the tiniest move. He knew that he couldn't take him, that Marcus must still be sore from their last two encounters, and he simply couldn't do that to him and hurt him this way. The exhaustion visible on Marcus' face also kept him from playing his usual game of keeping him on the brink of his climax without allowing him to come.

Marcus needed his sleep – they both needed their sleep, and Robertus just moved his hand up and down on the slick and hard shaft, pushing him relentlessly towards a forceful orgasm. His own cock throbbed painfully with the need to come, and he moved his hips, thrusting forth and back between Marcus' thighs, rapidly nearing his own climax.

Marcus was still silent, not wanting to let Robertus hear how aroused he was, and the dark-haired legatus couldn't blame him for that. Tonight, he wouldn't make him beg, tonight, he would give him what he needed without torturing him more than he already had. The sight of Marcus pressed against the marble tiles of his bath, his hands braced against the wall for support balled to tight fists filled Robertus with self-hate and disgust, and he moved his hand faster, craving to feel the evidence of Marcus' pleasure coating his fingers, craving to make his first centurion forget every other man he slept with for at least a few seconds, craving to be the one giving him pleasure and satisfaction – to be the only one giving that to the beautiful man trapped in his arms.

The younger man shuddered silently as the first wave of his ecstasy hit him, hot wetness shooting out of his twitching cock and bristling all over Robertus' fingers stroking him mercilessly through his height. Sensing Marcus' intense climax was enough to let Robertus find his own release, and the dark-haired legatus hissed quietly as he came hard, coating the soft skin of the inner sides of Marcus' thighs with his own release.

Robertus pulled the younger man close to his body, sharing his ecstasy with him, and when it was over, he leaned against the warm and trembling body for one more minute. Marcus didn't move, just stayed where he was, and the small whimper fleeing his lips, a sound that reminded Robertus of a wounded animal, hurt the commander more than the slap in his face Marcus had given him had hurt him.

He stared at the beautiful, male face, and when Marcus felt his eyes upon his features, he slowly opened his eyes and turned his head to look at him. He swallowed, lifted his chin up and swallowed again before he opened his mouth and said, his voice as impassive as it had been the entire time:

“I don't sleep with Marius. We're only friends. You're the only one, Robertus.”


	3. The Silence In Between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus has told Robertus that he is the only man he's sleeping with, how will Robertus react? What will happen next between them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear readers, thank you so, so much for your wonderful feedback, for all of the lovely comments and kudos, please keep it up, your visible support is what keeps me writing this story for you. <33
> 
> This chapter deals with the aftermath of their nightly encounter in Robertus' bath and of course, my beloved OC, the Celt Rufus, has to show up in this story as well. I don't think I could ever write a story settled in ancient Rome and Germania without my wonderful Rufus in it, this time, he is Robertus' devoted personal slave, giving him some good advice whenever his master needs it. :-)
> 
> Enjoy the new chapter my lovely audience and please let me know what you think of it, I would be so happy to know your thoughts. :-)

Robertus slowly blinked his eyes open, fighting against an unusual tiredness that had settled deep in his bones, making it hard for him to move a single limb. The impressive commander of one of the most important Roman cities in Germania, Augusta Treverorum, stared at the oak timbers of his ceiling, asking himself if Marcus was already awake and doing the same as he did, and whether or not he saw the same scene playing before his eyes as he himself saw instead of the dark oak beams.

The previous night was still that sharp and vivid in his mind as if Robertus was still there in his private bath, gaping at the blond Roman in shock and disbelief.

_“I don't sleep with Marius. We're only friends. You're the only one Robertus.”_

Marcus' quiet words still echoed loudly in his brain, causing a horrible headache to hammer behind his temples. Robertus hadn't needed to ask him whether his words were the truth or meant to deceive him, the amber-green eyes looking straight back at him without wavering had left no doubts that his first centurion was deadly serious about that.

Robertus had neither be prepared for this revelation, nor for what Marcus' words actually implied, staring back at him like frozen in place, and when the younger one had asked him once more to let him go, all Robertus had been able to do was to nod his head and step back until they were not touching any longer.

_“Can I go now, commander?”_

Marcus had sounded so cold, so distant and impassive, and Robertus had realized that he had to let him go if he didn't want to lose him once and for all without any chance to ever patch the damage he had already done to not only their professional relationship but also to whatever it was that was between them.

_“Of course, you can go, Marcus.”_

Robertus had stepped back and watched the blond centurion pulling the simple tunic he had hung over the hook next to the exit before his nightly bath over his head without caring that he was still wet and Robertus' semen dripping from his thighs, his movements awkward and so tired that Robertus' heart had ached with feelings he hadn't wanted to explore further. The dark-haired legatus had known better than to add a _“sleep well, Marcus,”_ sensing that his subordinate would take it for mockery and not the honest wish it actually was.

Marcus had left him with a straight back and without a single glance back at his commander, and Robertus had felt something breaking inside him, something he didn't know whether or not it could ever be fixed again.

The Roman with the dark curls and the deep blue eyes sighed as he forced his thoughts back to the here and now, sitting up and getting out of his hopelessly crumpled bed to pour cold water over his head. Perhaps, it would help against his headache, although the young legatus truly doubted that anything except for Marcus forgiveness would truly help against the pain he felt.

A forgiveness he had no right to ask for and which he surely wouldn't get after what he had done to the only one he could ever desire.

 

***

 

Marcus had been haunted by nightmares for the rest of the night, and he was actually glad when he could get out of bed when the first grayish rays of the early morning light fell through his small window.

He splashed some cold water into his face to clear his with tiredness fogged mind, wincing when the dried traces of Robertus' semen on the tender skin of his inner thighs reminded him of the previous night. Not that he needed a reminder of the happenings, the scene was still that clear in his mind as if he was still standing pressed against the marble tiles, trapped between the cold wall and Robertus' hot body. The blond centurion sighed in frustration, taking the wash cloth and running it over his legs, his eyes squeezed shut as he did so. He couldn't look at his thighs as he washed away the last remains of Robertus... desire? Temporary lust? Claim?

Because this could be all it had actually been, regarding that the dark-haired commander had let him go without objection when he had asked him to let him leave. Marcus had told himself that this was what he had truly wanted, leave Robertus and never be touched by him again after what he had done to him, but why did his stupid heart ached then so much by the memory that the man he loved with such force that it was a physical pain in his chest and every other part of his body had just stepped back and watched him leave?

_“Of course you can go Marcus.”_

This short sentence, spoken with calmness and without any feeling audible in Robertus' flat voice had been like a knife stabbed in his back, cutting right through him and tearing him apart.

After Robertus' accusations about him sleeping with Marius, Marcus lad almost believed that his friend had been right and that the older Roman was actually jealous, that he at least must feel some possessiveness towards him. Marcus hadn't actually wanted to admit that he didn't sleep with the young optio, the confession had just slipped from his lips, and he had anxiously awaited Robertus' reaction.

When the reaction he craved for that badly hadn't come, only wordless and hostile silence stretching between them, Marcus had asked Robertus to let him leave, his heart heavy with the realization that the last hope he had desperately clung to had been in vain. Robertus didn't feel anything for him and now that he knew that he was a fair game, an easy prey for everyone and no one else desiring him, the older Roman had lost his interest in him and would surely search for somebody else, somebody more worthy to be hunted down.

The young centurion put the wash cloth aside when he had carefully washed away the visible memory of his nightly encounter with the fascinating legatus - who had trapped his heart without any chance to ever give it back to him - bracing his hands against the top of washstand. He took several deep and careful breaths, and when he was sure that his hand wouldn't tremble, he opened his eyes and took the soap to spread the foam on his face.

Then, he took the sharp knife and started to shave himself, his face the cold and stoic mask of a stony statue and his hand firm and never faltering in its doing, while his heart was crying silently over what never could be.

 

***

 

“It has been a rather long time since you've last supervised the training of your subordinates, Dominus,” Rufus, Robertus' red-haired personal slave, stated casually as he helped his master to arrange the creases of his dark-blue toga. Robertus shot him a suspicious look, but Rufus had bent his head over his task, and all the legatus with the dark curls could see was the shock of thick dark-red hair of the man serving him for almost his entire life.

“Has it really been that long?” he tried to play the dumbfounded. “I didn't notice, I was too caught up in my other duties, the needed parchment work that comes with commanding such a large garrison.” Robertus knew how lame his excuse must sound, and it didn't fool the older Celt who knew him far too well for his liking and comfort sometimes.

“Five days to be precise. Your legionaries start to wonder and to talk, if I'm allowed to say that, Dominus. You have never chosen parchment work over watching the training fights, seeing to the reports in the evenings, so their confusion is quite understandable, I guess.”

Rufus circled Robertus to eye him critically and tug at the creases until he was satisfied with his handiwork.

“Do you have any special orders for your dinner with Publius Flavius Secundus, Dominus? You told me that Secundus has a special request concerning the journey of his daughter to her relatives in Mogontiacum in a couple of weeks and the necessary entourage to protect her. It might be a good thing to invite your first centurion to this dinner. After all, he will most likely be the one having to accompany the daughter of such an important resident of Augusta Treverorum.”

The commander blinked at the sudden change of topic, staring at his personal slave and friend in disbelief. Rufus was the only one daring to talk to him like that, and Robertus asked himself not for the first time why he didn't punish him for his impudent behavior. Only that Rufus wasn't really impudent, but only speaking the plain truth, and the legatus knew that he had to be grateful for the older man's openness and his sometimes painful but always clear way of addressing things Robertus would have preferred to ignore or forget but actually couldn't.

When he didn't answer, only stared at his personal slave, Rufus continued without backing away from the dangerous sparks glowing in his master's blue eyes. “Supervising the training and inviting Marcus Retus to your dinner with Secundus would also reassure your men that things are improving between their two superiors again. Your legionaries need to know that you're still on speaking terms and can work together like their legatus and their first centurion are supposed to do, Dominus. Whatever happened between you five days ago, you have to talk to him and find a solution for your problems, your argument and the silence between you and your first centurion is poisoning the entire garrison, Dominus.”

Robertus' shoulders slumped, and he rubbed his temples. His headache simply wouldn't fade, torturing him for five days by now, and the legatus knew that Rufus was right and that it wouldn't go away until he had talked with Marcus and apologized to him. He tried to scowl at his slave to save at least some of his dignity, pressing his lips to a thin line. “I should punish you for your impudence, slave!” he snarled, and Rufus bowed before him. “If it will make you feel better and cause you to finally do the right thing, Dominus,” he agreed, his voice not the least servile or frightened. On the contrary, Rufus sounded far too content and smug for Robertus' peace of mind, even though he was sure that no one else but him would have noticed the smugness. Rufus had reached true mastery in this game he liked to play with him, always appearing as the devoted slave and yet being able to make Robertus do the things he wanted him to do.

The dark-haired legatus was aware that most of the other Romans he knew – except for Marcus Retus – would indeed have punished Rufus for his behavior, but his personal slave only pushed him because of the deep concern about Robertus' well-being he felt, the Celt's demeanor ruled by his devotion and love for his master, and this was nothing he could punish him for.

“You know that I would never do that,” Robertus sighed in defeat, frowning when Rufus simply walked over to the rack where he kept his armor when he didn't need it.

“Training will begin in half an hour, I guess you will watch it dressed in your armor, commander?” the Celt went back to business, now that he had his master where he had wanted him the entire time, and the impressive Roman felt himself relax, a brief smile smoothing out his strict and troubled features.

“You really know me far too well, Rufus.”

His personal slave and friend smiled at him. “You wouldn't want it in any other way, Dominus,” he said, taking the armor from the rack and coming back to his master to help him out of the toga and into the only clothing every true and brave Roman felt really comfortable in.

 

***

 

Marcus didn't know how he had survived the last five days, and he was sure that only Marius' friendship and his constant visits in his quarters when the sun had gone down and darkness fallen over the Roman city had actually saved him from going insane because of his grief and his heartache.

During the days, when he was seeing to his duties as Robertus Levantus' first centurion, his face and his posture gave nothing away of what he truly felt, every ounce of him the brave and unmoved soldier who didn't fear anything except for the shame of disgraceful or coward behavior, neither death nor loneliness.

Death or loneliness wasn't what Marcus really feared anyway.

The only thing Marcus feared was that he had lost Robertus because of his stupid confession, that he would never feel his arms around him again, his body heat warming his cold skin and his passionate kiss caressing his lips.

If it hadn't been that sad and heartbreaking, Marcus would perhaps had found it funny that Robertus' first kiss had also been his last kiss at the same time.

Marcus knew that Robertus had only kissed him to punish him for his seeming cheating, but he had finally kissed him, and the young centurion found himself touching his lips with his fingertips when he was deeply lost in his thoughts. He could still feel the touch of the legatus' hot mouth when the memory overwhelmed him again, and he longed to feel his kiss again, burning him in his passion.

But Robertus had let him go instead of trying to make him stay, and for the last five days, there had been only silence between them.

The older Roman addressed him when he needed to because of their duties, but he stayed away from him and treated Marcus as if he was invisible for him, Robertus had even stopped supervising their training.

Marcus had been torn between fearing the legatus watching his fight with Severus the day after their nightly encounter in Robertus' bath and wishing that he would come and talk to him, maybe even apologize, or at least gift him with one of his rare smiles he showed when his men had fought well.

But Robertus hadn't come, had stayed away from their training arena, and Marcus felt broken after five horrible days of silence between them as he now approached the sandy ring for his daily exercises. He was a little bit too early because he had hurried to finish his reports about the latest happenings during the patrols, some minor incidents with drunk citizens and some young louts who didn't know how to behave. The blond centurion had hoped to be the first one so he could warm up alone and undisturbed, and his steps faltered when the saw the figure gliding over the sand in the middle of the arena, the elegant movements reminding Marcus of the beautiful, black panther he once had seen in Rome.

Marcus came to an abrupt halt, and for a few seconds he forgot how to breathe as he watched Robertus doing his exercises, his longing for the other man tightening his throat painfully.

The dark-haired Roman broke the spell when he stopped and simply looked at him, and Marcus inhaled a shaky breath, his hands clenching at his sides. He still couldn't move and for one very long moment, the two so different men just looked into each other's eyes, the silence between them vibrating with all the unspoken words neither of them dared to utter.

Then, Robertus slowly approached him, his movements as elegant as they had been, but also cautious, the black panther creeping up on his prey with attentive eyes that never left Marcus' pale face.

When he had reached his first centurion, his unique scent filled Marcus' nose and every cell of his with longing and desire aching body, the special and oh so tempting mixture of leather, the herbal soap Robertus used, fresh, male sweat and the scent of the legatus' sun-kissed skin. Marcus felt like an addicted who finally got the next dose of the drug he was addicted to, like a man dying of thirst finally reaching the life-saving oasis filled with clear and delicious water.

The older Roman lifted his hand up to Marcus' face, grazing feather-light with his calloused thumb over Marcus' trembling lips. “Marcus,” he murmured, briefly cupping his well-shaved cheek for a second. “Will you honor me by training with me today?”

Marcus swallowed, resisting the urge to press into the touch that was gone before he had fully savored it. “Train with you?” he rasped, not sure whether his ears played tricks on him or if he had heard right.

“Yes, train with me.” Robertus hesitated. “Please, Marcus.”

Marcus didn't trust his own voice so he only nodded his head in agreement, and the relieved and honest smile flashing on his commander's face for the split of a second let an entire army of butterflies clap their wings deep in his abdomen.

He followed his superior into the ring, his sweaty hand grabbing for the wooden sword as he took up position. The young centurion had fought with Robertus countless times before, but it had never meant as much to him as this fight meant, and he became deaf and blind for anything else than the yellow-red sand of the arena tickling his toes through his sandals and the beautiful and dangerous man in front of him.

The legatus stood before him almost relaxed, and only the short twitching of a tiny muscle in his jaw warned Marcus when the other soldier attacked him all of a sudden.

Marcus lifted his wooden sword in the very last moment to parry the blow and then, the trained soldier in him took over control and everything else became unimportant and vanished into the farthest corner of his mind.

This was what he had been born for, this was his life, his fate.

Marcus Retus was born to be a soldier with every fiber of his being, and he would stay a soldier until his death, regardless of what he felt and desired for his private life.

Robertus Levantus' first centurion wielded his sword over his head and let out a low, dangerous growl as he turned into the skilled warrior he actually was within the blink of an eye, fighting back with all he had, his power and strength, his body and most of all, with his still aching heart.

 

***

 

Robertus was dimly aware of his subordinates watching him fight with Marcus, but he ignored them and their shouts, his senses focused on the beautiful being almost flying over the dust as they fought, his hurt and confused first centurion laying all his anger and frustration in his attacks without ever just blindly storming forward and right into Robertus' next blow - like so many others would have done in this situation.

The dark-haired legatus was actually glad that Marcus could use their fight as a valve for his hurt feelings, because this had been his intention when he had come to the arena after his talk with Rufus in the vague hope that Marcus would accept his wordless offer for making up the only way two true soldiers could possibly do. Fighting against each other during training was the best way possible for both of them to get rid of their poisonous emotions without actually hurting one another more than they already had.

He didn't mind the few rather hard blows he got, he would gladly take much more if only Marcus forgave him his unforgivable deed from five nights earlier.

Robertus lost all tracks of time while they fought, and when Marcus' attacks finally became less and less heated and more and more professional, he knew that the poison had eventually left his system. He parred one last blow before giving the sign that the fight was over, both of them standing in the middle of the ring, covered in sweat and breathing fast, but the rush of new strength, power and relief was worth the ache he would definitely feel the next day.

A warm bath and Rufus' skilled hands massaging the kinks out of his sore muscles would help him, but Marcus had always been his best fighter, the only one who could actually defeat him on a regular basis if he really wanted to, and Robertus was grateful that he hadn't put his mind to actually trying to defeat him today.

The dark-haired Roman wasn't so sure about Marcus' motives to spare him a real fight, but he knew that he would have granted his centurion the honor of defeating him in front of the other legionaries today, a small price he would have had to pay for getting his forgiveness.

Robertus still ignored the other officers watching them as he stepped closer to Marcus, his eyes roaming over the proud figure of his first centurion. Marcus stood completely still like a beautiful marble statue, only his still heaving chest giving away that he was a living and breathing being.

“That was a good fight, centurion,” the legatus said loud enough that the other legionaries could hear him, Severus, his second centurion and Marius, the young optio and Marcus' friend, who were standing behind the wooden fence framing the arena. “Every commander would be proud to call you their right hand.” He paused, knowing that he was playing with fire, risking Marcus becoming angry at him again, as he added: “I want you to join my dinner with Publius Flavius Secundus tonight, Marcus. I expect you to come to my place by sunset.”

Marcus stared at him with an incredulous expression in his eyes, and Robertus looked back, hoping that his own eyes would tell the younger one what he couldn't say out loud with the others watching them, and when the blond centurion nodded with a tight jaw, Robertus turned around and left the arena, the feeling of Marcus' intense glance following him until he was out of sight making his skin tingle with desire and his heart beat faster in his chest.


	4. Cautious Convergence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robertus and Marcus have started to make up with a proper fight like it should be between brave soldiers but then, Robertus ordered Marcus to join him and Publius Flavius Secundus for dinner. Will Marcus really come to his place and is he willing to give Robertus a second chance or will they argue again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is probably some kind of interlude, a short breather for my boys (and for you, too, I guess ;-P). I can assure you that the dread and angst are not over yet, Marcus and Robertus might be on speaking terms again, but the next hardships and obstacles are lurking in the shadows of the next corners. They are far from being out of the woods, but I thought you might appreciate a sweeter chapter between them. I also decided to give my original character Publius Flavius Secundus a truly unique appearance, but as ridculous as he might come across, he is surely the bad guy of this story, you will see that in the next chapters.
> 
> That being said, enjoy the new chapter and some nice pining and longing, my dear readers. :-)
> 
> I'm still totally overwhelmed by your awesome support for this story and the wonderful feedback, I would never have thought that you would like this story that much. Please keep it up, each kudo and comment you're gifting me with makes me squeal with joy! <33

“Do you really want to follow his 'request' and just have dinner with him and Secundus?” Marius asked two hours later as they were swimming their laps in the large pool for the legionaries of the garrison. His normally soft brown eyes showed a disbelieving expression, and Marcus averted his eyes to not meet his sharp glance that seemed to look straight into his soul and find all the secrets he tried to desperately to keep there.

“The legatus is my superior, Marius, and his words were a clear order – spoken in front of our men. What do you think I could have done? Tell him that I have better things to do than wasting my time with him and this stupid rooster?” he retorted as quietly as possible, his voice filled with hurt about Marius' lack of understanding and support. The young optio was his best friend here in this garrison, the only one he could talk openly to when it came to his forbidden love for the remarkable legatus, the most astonishing and desirable man Marcus had ever met.

Marius sighed. “No, of course not, Marcus. I know that you'll have no other choice, I'm sorry. I just don't like how he's been treating you. At first, he ignores you for five days as if you had the plague, and then, he suddenly behaves as if nothing had happened between you, asking you to fight with him and inviting you for a dinner with his soon-to-be father-in-law. Who does he think he is?” the younger one growled, clearly upset about the way their commander treated his friend, and Marcus' face softened as he briefly touched the brunet's shoulder.

The blond centurion hadn't told Marius everything about this fateful night five days ago, he had only told him that Robertus had caught him in his bath and accused him of risking to fail in his duties as his first centurion by staying awake during the nights instead of getting enough sleep. This had been more than he had actually wanted to tell, but Marcus had known when Marius had asked him about his terrible state the next day that he had to tell him something – anything – if he didn't want to risk that Marius would just storm into Robertus' office and say something he would deeply regret afterwards.

No, the real happenings of this night were nothing Marcus could tell anybody, even not his best friend. These happenings were something between Robertus and him, only, and he would keep the memories of this fateful night to himself and never talk about them, probably even not to Robertus himself.

Marcus had felt almost happy when the dark-haired legatus had asked him to train with him, the look of his blue eyes softer than usual and something akin to pleading, and their fight had helped him to get rid of the last bitterness and hurt he had still felt, making him willing to give Robertus a second chance and forgive what he had done to him.

But then, Robertus had ordered him to have dinner with him and Publius Flavius Secundus right after their make-up fight and in front of their subordinates.

Having dinner with Robertus was surely something Marcus would have been out of his mind with happiness about - if it was only the two of them, that is. But Publius Flavius Secundus was the man wanting Robertus as the husband for his daughter - as Marius had put it so pointedly – and therefore the last person on earth Marcus wanted to dine with. Having to listen to the older man's attempts to lure the man Marcus desired and loved so much himself into the arms and the bed of his offspring was definitely the worst scenario imaginable for the brave soldier Marcus actually was. He'd rather fight against a bunch of wild barbarians attacking him with axes, spears and sticks all alone than having to fake politeness, joy and delight during an endless and annoying dinner with the impudent merchant he didn't feel towards him only the slightest.

He had met the older Roman with the bald head and the from his orgies fat belly on several occasions, and Secundus' way of treating him was arrogant and overbearing to put it nicely. Marcus had mused about the possible reason for Secundus' dislike and almost hate towards him more than once, but he couldn't come up with a single reason for that. He had become Robertus' first centurion at a very young age and his position and rank should be honorable enough to be treated as an equal. His family might not be as rich as Robertus' relatives, but his origin and the name of his family were as noble as the legatus' origin and family – nobler than Secundus' origin actually was.

The blond centurion was also sure that Secundus didn't know that the man he wanted for his daughter slept with him, Robertus' behavior in public was always beyond all blame and never anything else than professional and appropriate. He was strict and didn't smile oftentimes, but he was a good commander, and his legionaries admired and almost adored him – the soldier Marcus included.

“He is our superior, and if he thinks that my presence is needed at his dinner party, then I will be punctual and have dinner with the legatus and his guest, Marius,” Marcus now answered Marius' question, which hadn't been a real question, at all.

Marius suppressed another sigh, but his expression was full of sympathy when he looked at the blond again. “You're right, Marcus. I just don't want you to get hurt again,” he murmured, furtively glancing around. Severus and Patricius were at the other end of the pool, busied with their own talk about the training, at least if their vivid gestures were any indication. The other centurion and his optio didn't pay attention to Marius and Marcus, and the brunet smiled at Marcus. “I could give you a massage, Marcus, here in the restroom to not arouse further suspicions. You look tensed.”

Marcus felt tensed by the thought of the forthcoming evening, but he needed some time alone before having to face Robertus and Secundus, and he shook his head with an apologetic look. “Thank you for your offer, Marius, but not today. I need some time alone, maybe the next time?”

Marius regarded him thoughtfully, finally nodding his head. “Of course, Marcus, as you wish. At any time, you only have to tell me. See you tomorrow, then,” he said with a strange undertone in his voice, swimming to the edge of the pool to pull himself out of it and take his linen towel.

Marcus followed him with his eyes until the young optio was out of sight, before he swam to the edge as well. The bath and his talk with his friend had helped him to relax, and he wanted to take a short nap before getting ready for the evening he would spend in Robertus' and Secundus' company, because it would surely getting late again tonight, Secundus never knew when it was time to leave.

Marcus climbed out of the pool and started to dry himself, shooting another quick glance in Severus' and Patricius' direction. They both waved at him and Marcus lifted his hand to a short goodbye before he left the bath, determined to endure the long evening without embarrassing himself and putting his commander to shame in front of the fat merchant.

“You can do that, Marcus Retus. You have been in much worse circumstances, enduring mud, cold and battles,” he grimly murmured to himself as he dressed and left the bath to go to his private rooms.

Only that the prospect of spending an evening in Secundus' presence felt much worse than any battle had ever done, and Marcus was pretty sure that his worst suspicions would come true, because what could be worse than having to smile at the man who wanted your secret lover to marry his own daughter?

 

***

 

When the sun started to disappear under the horizon in a beautiful, deep-red glowing ball, Robertus found himself pacing up and down in his official dining room like a nervous big cat trapped in its cage. His sandals didn't make any sound on the blinking marble tiles due to the long time of practice of a soldier who had to be capable of moving inaudibly, but the expensive wool of his blue toga rustled silently with each turn-around when he reached one side of the large room and started off in the opposite direction again.

Rufus had left him several minutes ago to wait for his guests in the great hall of his villa, and Robertus slowly but unstoppable began to fear that Marcus wouldn't come like he had agreed to do. Yes, he had more or less ordered him to spend the evening in his and Secundus' company, but his first centurion must still be hurt, and Robertus wouldn't punish him if he really decided to not follow the request his order had actually been.

Robertus had had to wrap it into an official order due to his underlings listening to them, but he hoped that Marcus had seen through this order and realized that he had actually a choice in this matter and that his short nod had been a seriously meant agreement to his request.

The dark-haired Roman knew quite well that he had no right to force Marcus into this, even more because Publius Flavius Secundus tended to treat his first centurion more like a servant or a slave and not like the remarkable and honorable Roman citizen and officer he actually was.

The beautiful centurion with the amber-green eyes and the golden hair had never been unpunctual to their meetings and appointments so far, and the sun had already set, only a tiny stripe of its orange light still visible, but it faded quickly and Rufus had already lit the torches and candles at the white walls a while ago.

The legatus with the dark curls sighed and turned around again, just when Rufus opened the door to let the man filling Robertus' thoughts and dreams enter the room.

The older Roman stopped, gaping at his centurion as if he had never really seen him.

Marcus Retus was the most stunning sight he had ever laid his eyes upon, Robertus was certain about that, and he could feel his mouth literally water with desire as he took in the astonishing beauty right in front of him. His eyes probably threatened to fall out of his head because of the tempting sight unfolding before him, but he couldn't have cared less about that or the rather stupid expression on his face in this special moment. He was only vaguely aware of Rufus leaving them alone and closing the door again to wait for the merchant who would come a little bit later, Robertus had seen to Marcus being the first one to arrive.

His first centurion hesitantly stepped closer when they were alone for the first time within five days – because the few minutes in the arena didn't count - looking unnaturally shy as he gazed back at Robertus from under his thick eyelashes.

The red-golden strands of his hair were arranged to a perfect quiff with two soft strands caressing his smooth forehead, and Marcus had dressed with a splendid, creamy-white toga over his simple, light-yellow tunic. Thin green, silver and golden threads adorned the hems of the shimmering wool, the neatly arranged creases swirling slightly around his strong and slender frame whenever he moved. The magnificent clothing disguised Marcus' well-shaped and worked-out body, the pale skin shimmering like precious ivory in the silvery light of Luna falling through the window now and bathing the blond Roman in her soft rays. Robertus didn't need to see more of Marcus' figure to let his imagination run wild, though, he knew the wonders of his secret lover's body by heart, the sight of him writhing naked underneath him burnt in his memory for the eternity.

Robertus' hands twitched with the desire to explore the delights hidden beneath the soft garment, delights he had seen so many times before in all their shimmering glory without ever allowing himself to actually touch and caress them like they deserved to be touched and caressed. The dark-haired Roman took a deep breath to calm himself down and bring his libido back under control, but it only served to make him inhale Marcus' intoxicating scent once more, and he suppressed an ardent groan only with effort, his eyes roaming over the blond centurion's appearance once more.

Marcus didn't belong to those Romans needing to boost their attractiveness with jewelry, and he normally didn't wear any, feeling most comfortable in either his armor or a simple tunic, but tonight he wore his golden seal ring with the deep green emerald on top of it and two large golden bracelets around his wrists accentuating his well-toned forearms and elegant hands. Marcus had opted for simple sandals made of soft, beige leather, and the small laces wrapped around his slim calves draw the gaze of the watcher to Marcus' legs – those legs Robertus longed to feel wrapped around his back while he possessed him with unrestrained passion.

Robertus was deeply grateful for the creases of his toga covering the part of his body reacting forcefully and very inappropriately to the breathtaking and mouth-watering picture in front of him.

“Good evening, legatus,” Marcus now said, sounding actually sheepish. “Please excuse my late arrival, I needed some rest and I slept longer than I had actually planned.”

It was not only a rock falling from Robertus' shoulders, but an entire mountain. Marcus hadn't let him wait on purpose, nature had simply demanded its right. His first centurion didn't need to explain why he had taken a nap, the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes hadn't been lost on the older Roman over the past five days, speaking of restless nights and insomnia nobody else but Robertus himself was responsible for. The mere thought of telling his subordinate off for being too late for a couple of minutes just because Marcus had finally gotten at least two hours of undisturbed sleep after their make-up fight was that ridiculous that Robertus didn't even think it to its end.

The dark-haired commander stepped closer, inhaling deeply the other man's tempting scent again. Marcus' nostrils flared as he did the same, and the air between them was suddenly thick with pheromones and desire. “Good evening, Marcus. I can assure you that there is no need to apologize for anything, at all, you're punctual as always. I asked you to come to my place at sunset, and the sun has just gone down.”

They both knew that this was a little lie, because the sun had disappeared before Marcus had entered the room, but the younger one gladly accepted Robertus' offer for a cautious truce, a small but honest smile letting his handsome features shine for a moment. Both of them remembered what Robertus had thrown at him the afternoon before their nightly encounter, and his admission that Marcus had never been too late so far relaxed the blond centurion visibly.

They looked at each other, silently, but this time, it was the good kind of silence, filled with anticipation and hope instead of dread, anger and hurt. Robertus longed to reach out and touch the beautiful man gazing uncertainly at him, he craved to carry him into his bedroom, peel him out of his clothes and bury himself deep into his velvet-like, tight heat, but Secundus' could arrive at any time, and this was neither the right place, nor the right time to give in to his desire and make sure that there would be no doubts left to whom this remarkable man belonged – Robertus Levantus, and him only.

The legatus was reasonable enough to know the reason for Marcus having decided to dress up like this – something he normally didn't do – to show the impudent and arrogant merchant that he was as honorable as Secundus, but one tiny part of him yet hoped that Marcus had also done it because of him.

Not that he would have needed any other proof of how desirable Marcus was, his cock was hard and aching ever since his centurion had emerged on the threshold, and there was no sign of his cheeky manhood going back to sleep as long as the younger man stood that close.

“Can I offer you something to drink, Marcus? Water, wine, cervisia?” he asked to distract himself from his desire, only to find his voice husky and trembling. Several emotions flickered over Marcus' handsome features, and he swallowed audibly.

“You're my commander, legatus, it should be me serving you,” the blond Roman finally said in the weak attempt to break the tension loaded with too many emotions and unspoken desires between them.

“It's Robertus for you tonight, Marcus, we're not on duty,” Robertus reminded him almost gently. “You're my guest, so it is upon me to make sure that you are comfortable and enjoying yourself.” He gestured to the recliners with the thick cushions, and Marcus let out a shaky sigh and followed him to the cozy pieces of furniture, his entire figure shining golden in the warm light of the torches enlightening Robertus' dining room.

“Water then, please.” Marcus said, staring down at the recliner with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Are we ever not on duty as Roman soldiers, Robertus?” he eventually inquired after two or three seconds, but his question was more a rhetorical one and not an accusation or reproach. Both of them had chosen the life of a soldier freely and because they had never wanted to be anything else than one of those brave men defending their beloved empire and defeating its enemies. They were both born to be soldiers, and as such, they were actually always on duty, prepared to leave their homes and the ones they loved to throw themselves into the next bloody battle.

His first centurion now lay down on the recliner further away from the door and closer to the large window, while Robertus took the carafe with the clear water to fill two goblets with the cool liquid. He preferred water himself, but only when he could be sure that he wouldn't get sick from it, and he had to drink wine or cervisia more often than he would have liked it.

“You're right, Marcus, we'll have to talk about our duties when Publius Flavius Secundus joins us, no matter whether or not we want to do that, but you are my guest and not my subordinate tonight, nevertheless, and you will be treated as my guest and not as my underling. Rufus would have my head on a silver platter if I ever dared to forget the rules of hospitality and how to treat my guests – even the actually unwelcome and annoying ones,” the dark-haired legatus joked before freezing in place for one second, fearing that his attempt to light up the suddenly melancholy mood had ruined everything.

But the blond only chuckled as he accepted the goblet his commander offered him. “Thank you, Robertus. And yes, I can imagine. Rufus might be the scariest man I've ever met. I wouldn't want to annoy him either, risking him scowling at me and telling me off in his unique way. He's a very strict teacher when it comes to such lessons, isn't he?”

Robertus lay down on the recliner opposite Marcus with only a small table between their loungers. “You have no idea,” he groaned theatrically, rolling his eyes, glad that the man he had hurt so much could finally laugh in his presence again. They needed to find a new basis for their relationships – for the professional one as much as for whatever was going on between them in a much more intimate way – and seeing Marcus laugh that carefree for a short moment filled Robertus with new hope that they would find a way to overcome the past. Robertus avoided to think more closely about his feelings for the younger man, he could admit his desire for the blond centurion and his admiration for him as the tough soldier he was, but the ache in his chest he had felt ever since Marcus had left him standing in the bath, staring after him, was something he simply couldn't explore further, not at the moment, at least. Robertus pushed these unbidden thoughts to the side and smiled at Marcus, his blue eyes shining with his own amusement about Marcus' words, and his first centurion smiled back, his gaze unconsciously traveling to his lips.

Robertus swallowed when his desire came back with full force, and he only realized that he had instinctively leaned forward to kiss Marcus when their lips almost touched and the blond's warm breath ghosted over his flushed cheek. Robertus' eyelids dropped with the sensation and he leaned even closer, craving to degust and savor Marcus' unique taste and feel the softness of his lips on his own for a second time.

He had just laid his lips upon the younger man's trembling mouth when the door was suddenly opened again and his other guest shambled into his dining room, his breathing sounding like the squeaking of rusty door hinges.

The dark-haired legatus flinched and stared at the newcomer in the same moment Marcus jerked away from him with a strangled sound, his whole body visibly tensing up again.

Publius Flavius Secundus approached them as fast as his fat legs allowed him to walk, crossing the large room in his strange waddling way and spreading his arms widely as if he wanted to choke Robertus in his embrace like a giant octopus wrapping its prey in its deadly embrace.

The merchant wore a deep purple toga over a gaudy red tunic, the two colors not matching at all and hurting in the eyes of those who had the displeasure of having to look at him. His sandals were of a golden material and adorned with several colorful gems but too small for his fat feet, and they made slapping noises as he shambled closer. Secundus wore big golden rings at each of his ten meaty fingers, and he also wore a golden necklace and golden bracelets around his upper arms. Robertus was used to the merchant's appearance on such occasions due to his regular visits in Secundus' villa, but Marcus stared incredulously at the more than astonishing sight, and Robertus could see that his centurion struggled hard to not rub his eyes in the futile attempt of letting the manifestation of bad taste vanish again and utter some sounds of horror.

Publius Flavius Secundus had finally reached them, and when Robertus elegantly rose to his feet to greet his guest, the older man pulled him close to his heaving chest and yodeled in a high-pitched, excited voice: “my dear Robertus Levantus! I was so pleased about your invitation to this private dinner! I am sure that the two of us will spend a wonderful evening together!”


	5. An Unpleasant Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus has to endure a private dinner with Robertus and the merchant Publius Flavius Secundus...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, but I was totally sick over the weekend and I couldn't look at a computer screen for more than only a few minutes. This is what comes out when you're writing about a dinner while your own stomach is still upset and troubling you... ;-P
> 
> I have to admit that I had some evil fun writing this chapter, it is only told from Marcus' POV, and those of you who have hoped for more kisses between Marcus and Robertus might be disappointed at the end, because it will be clear that Marcus is definitely not in the mood to share kisses anymore... This story is supposed to be bumpy and rocky, long and filled with some 'nice' obstacles, so you'd better fasten your seat-belts and prepare yourselves for some jolts. :-)
> 
> My dear readers, your awesome and wonderful comments and the kudos you're gifting me with are what keep me writing for you even when I'm sick and only want to lie in my bed and pull the covers over my head, and I am so grateful for your support for this story. Please keep it up and leave kudos and comments for this chapter, as well, I am really curious about your opinion! :-D

Just one minute ago, Robertus had almost kissed him, Marcus could still feel the soft touch of his lips on his mouth, and the next one, the young centurion found them interrupted in the cruelest way possible, staring at the horrible sight of Publius Flavius Secundus waddling in their direction to choke the man Marcus loved with his fat arms.

The purple color of Secundus' toga didn't match at all with the bright red of his tunic, hurting in Marcus' eyes even in the soft light of the torches and the moon falling through the window, and the blond centurion was deeply grateful that he didn't have to endure the merchant's sight in the bright white of the noon sun, not sure whether or not he would have been able to keep his last meal down in that case. The golden jewelry Secundus had draped all over his body reflected the light of the torches in a way that Marcus' eyes started to water, and he had to rub them to clear his vision again, just in time to see that the horror wasn't over yet.

Marcus should actually have suspected that the arrogant merchant wouldn't go out without slaves accompanying him, even not to a 'private dinner between only the legatus and him' how Secundus had put it, because for the fat man, slaves were no real human beings but only properties without any rights.

The blond Roman aristocrat himself had grown up in a household were slaves had belonged to the family, being treated well and with care and respect, and the thought of treating them in any other way than as humans with feelings and needs had never crossed his mind. He was a grown up man and more than capable of seeing to himself, and he didn't miss having a slave here in the garrison, knowing that his subordinates and comrades would always gladly help him in case he needed a massage or medical care. Marcus of course knew that Robertus needed to keep slaves in his villa due to his status and reputation, but he had never seen his commander using them as properties or pleasure toys or humiliating them in the way other Romans sometimes did.

Publius Flavius Secundus surely belonged to those Roman citizens who did that on a regular basis, and the two young slaves following their master with their heads ducked between their shoulders only proved to him that he had been right with his suspicion.

The two rather young boys wore only tiny loincloths made of a silvery garment – hiding nothing and revealing everything to the possible greedy stares of others - and Secundus had gone that far to let their bodies be painted with golden color. The large collars enclosing their necks far too tightly were made of leather colored in the same silver like their loincloths, and Marcus asked himself how they could actually breathe with these collars seemingly threatening to suffocate them. The young centurion couldn't see their faces with their heads lowered down on the ground like that, but he was sure that their expression was a mirror of their feelings and that they were probably glad that they didn't need to look at their master or the other two Romans in the room. Thick and long golden locks curled down to their shoulders, and Marcus was torn between two very strong urges:

The first one was to jump to his feet and punch the fat man in his face to make him let go of the man Marcus loved that desperately.

The second urge threatening to overwhelm him was to jump to his feet and free the poor creatures tiptoeing after Secundus as elegantly as they were able to with such tight collars from the offending garment around their necks – after covering their thin bodies with a blanket to give them back at least some of their dignity.

If he hadn't felt as shocked as he actually did, he might have wanted to laugh helplessly at the more than ridiculous sight, but Marcus feared that he wouldn't be able to stop laughing once he had started, and he wouldn't put his superior to shame in front of this unworthy parody of a proud Roman.

 

***

 

“Publius Flavius Secundus, I'm pleased that you followed my humble invitation,” Robertus now stated politely, his face giving nothing away of what he thought as he pulled back from the tight hug.

“How could I _not_ have followed your invitation for an intimate dinner with you, my dear, dear Robertus?” Secundus fluted, rolling his eyes with exaltation. He looked as if he was about to pull the younger Roman back to his heaving chest, and this was finally too much for Marcus who let out a low, warning growl against his will. Both men turned their heads to stare down at him, Robertus somehow looking as if he had forgotten that Marcus was there, while Secundus' eyes became as big as plates, almost falling out of his head when he realized that the intimate dinner between just Robertus and him was destroyed by the presence of the man he seemed to hate the most in this world.

The blond centurion glanced back at the fat merchant, and when he looked in his cold, dark eyes, he finally knew the reason why Secundus hated him that much, why he most likely hated every good-looking and younger man under Robertus' command. Publius Flavius Secundus might officially want Robertus to marry his daughter, but deep in his heart, he only wanted the beautiful legatus to become his son-in-law because he wanted him for himself, hoping that one day, he could lay his own fat hands on the impressive Roman soldier and lure him into his own bed.

Secundus stared down at Marcus with pure hatred shining in his eyes, and the blond Roman looked back him, his face unreadable like the beautiful face of the marble statue of the God Mars worshiped in the temples, and he didn't flinch away from the hate he could see, just held Secundus' face until the merchant averted his eyes to look reproachfully at Robertus instead.

“B-but, my dear Robertus! What is your _underling_ doing here? I thought it would be only the two of us having dinner tonight!” the older man whined, wringing his fat fingers. The dark-haired legatus smiled politely at him, showing his white teeth, and Marcus asked himself whether or not Secundus was able to see the threat hidden behind Robertus' politeness. But two could play that game of social theater, and Marcus was determined to play his role in this – comedy? Tragedy? - and not stay behind his superior, and if it was only to show the dark-haired legatus that he saw through his rather obvious attempts to manipulate him.

“Good evening, Publius Flavius Secundus, what a _pleasure_ to see you again,” the son of an important Roman senator greeted Robertus' other guest now with faked delight, emphasizing the word 'pleasure' in a slightly ambiguous way. Marcus had never pulled rank on anybody so far, his normally kindhearted nature and consideration of other people's feelings forbidding him such behavior, had never felt the need to do that ever in his life before.

But now he did it for the first time and on purpose by staying where he was, lying comfortably on his recliner instead of rising to his feet to greet the impudent merchant, lifting his hand up in a gracious but also bored gesture and pulling a short, strangled sound from Robertus with that.

Marcus suppressed a grim smile when the unexpected evidence of his normally controlled commander struggling for his composure made its way to his ears. Marcus' family belonged to the highest ranking families in Rome, and a brave centurion fighting for the empire's sake and glory was much worthier in the eyes of almost every Roman than a simple merchant could ever be, even if this merchant traded with the emperor himself.

Marcus was a tough soldier with every fiber of his being, defending the Roman empire with his life and always riding in front of his legionaries instead of staying behind their lines in relative safety, and he was not only a centurion, but Robertus' first centurion, which made him of higher rank than Secundus could ever reach, and he would be damned if he ever licked Secundus' ugly toes to get his approval he could never get because of his youth and handsomeness anyway.

“Marcus Retus is my second-in-command, my right hand, and you told me that you wish to discuss the forthcoming journey of your daughter to Mogontiacum with me, Publius Flavius Secundus. How could we have such a conversation without my second?” Robertus had apparently found back to his iron calmness, because he gestured invitingly to the third recliner before lying down on his own again, the one building a triangle with Marcus' lounger and his own one, placed at the end of them where Robertus' and Marcus' feet were.

“Good evening, _centurion_!” Spat out with obvious disgust, Marcus' rank sounding like the insult it was meant to be. At least, Secundus had remembered some of his manners and finally greeted him, something Marcus should probably be grateful for.

The merchant's double chin wobbled as his jaw worked, and he eyed the third lounger as if it was covered with stinking mud. After some long seconds of hesitation, he lay down on it with an indignant face but without further arguing, shooting Marcus another hateful glance before focusing his greedy eyes on Robertus again to literally undress him with his eyes.

Marcus' first feeling of irritation had been replaced by hot anger when he had realized what Robertus had actually planned without talking to him beforehand, even though he of course shouldn't have been surprised. Robertus Levatus might have offered him a make-up fight and a truce, but he was still the cold and unapproachable commander not really caring about Marcus' feelings at all, and he'd better never forget that again if he didn't want his heart to break again.

Yet, he kept his face impassive as Rufus and two other slaves entered the room to put the trays with the deliciously smelling food onto the two tables, refusing to meet Robertus' intense gaze. The poor creatures belonging to the merchant had crouched down beside his recliner, and the blond centurion could only hope that Secundus wouldn't throw some morsels onto the shining marble tiles of Robertus' living room like he would most likely do to feed some animals. Marcus really didn't know if he could keep his calm in case Secundus would actually try to do that.

“Thank you Rufus, we can serve ourselves,” Robertus said to Rufus when he was finished with his task, and the red-haired Celt bowed before his master like he never did when only Marcus was around. “As you wish, Dominus,” he answered before leaving the room together with the two young women who had helped him with the trays. Marcus had watched Secundus during the whole procedure, and the fact that Secundus hadn't even looked at the two beautiful female slaves, never taking his eyes off Robertus' figure had only confirmed his first impression.

The fat merchant wanted the good-looking legatus for himself and considered Marcus a threat and rival. Secundus didn't look pleased by the prospect of having to serve himself, it was obvious that slaves didn't count as human beings disturbing his 'dinner for two' he had expected, and he flipped his thumb against his middle finger now and pointed at one of the plates filled with a generous amount of venison, thick brown sauce and some filled quail's eggs.

Marcus suppressed a dry retch, his stomach had clenched to a tight knot the minute Secundus had entered the room, and he didn't feel hungry any longer, at all. Refusing to eat would have been incredible impolite, though, and he stifled a sigh to a seemingly pleased “hm!” and took the plate next to him without really looking at the food. To his utter relief, he found only fruits, bread and some light cheese upon it, and he sent a silent thanks to Rufus busied somewhere in the house, sensing that Robertus' clever personal slave must have put this plate right before his nose on purpose.

When he raised his head again, Robertus was watching him with a concerned look in his eyes, but Marcus wasn't in the mood to ease his commander's mind and only lifted his chin up in defiance, meeting his gaze with a hard glance that told the older soldier that their truce was over. Robertus' gaze hardened, as well, and he narrowed his eyes, one tiny muscle in his tightly set jaw twitching as they measured each other, two strong-willed fighters not willing to let the other one gain the upper hand.

 

***

 

“You're far too kind to your slaves, my dear Robertus,” Secundus made himself noticeable again, talking with his mouth full without caring about appropriate behavior, “I have made the painful experience that treating them with friendliness only makes them become cheeky and disobedient, they need a strong hand putting them in their places instead of being thanked for fulfilling their duties. If anything, it should be this Celt thanking you for the grace of being allowed to serve you. He actually should crawl on his knees and kiss your feet, my dear legatus!”

Marcus actually had to admire his superior for his self-control, because Robertus' blue eyes began to shine in a dangerous light while the polite mask stayed on his face, and the blond centurion wasn't sure whether he should hate him or love him even more for his astonishing control. Robertus' smile was as ice-cold as the touch of the underworld would have been, though, and the temperature in his living room seemed to drop several degrees. The fat merchant was oblivious to the subtle signs of his host's anger, too busied with gobbling down the food on his plate while he 'ate' the legatus with his eyes, sauce coating his chin and parts of his jaw.

The youngest one of their strange 'threesome' averted his eyes from the disgusting sight and took a deep breath, slowly unclenching his balled fists and hoping that his own face gave only little away of his true thoughts and emotions.

“I am treating my charges like I think it appropriate, Publius. Rufus knows his place as much as my legionaries do, and the same goes for my other slaves and servants. I am grateful for your concern, but I don't need any advice about how to talk to my underlings, my dear merchant,” the military commander of Augusta Treverorum now said, his eyes fixed on the man lying on the recliner at his feet. The poor boys garnished like living copies of the God Armor hung their heads even lower than before, a clear sign that they were much cleverer than their master, having noticed Robertus Levantus' anger quite well.

“I'm only concerned about your well-being, my dear Robertus!” Secundus pointed at the platter with the filled roast goose and the cabbage. One of the blond slaves hurried to obey his master's order and overloaded his plate with the new dish.

Marcus looked down at his own plate, taking a cautious bite from a red cherry. It hadn't slipped his attention that his commander hadn't even touched his own plate filled with cold meat, bread and cheese so far, but he was too furious to care about Robertus' obvious disgust and discomfort.

They could have discussed the journey of Secundus' daughter in Robertus' office, the fact that the legatus had invited her father for a private dinner party to do so only served to boost the merchant's hopes that his interest in getting to know Robertus more intimately was returned.

Robertus Levantus was one of the cleverest man Marcus had ever met, it couldn't be that he didn't know the real reason behind Secundus' wish of becoming his father-in-law?

“That is very kind of you, but not necessary, believe me, Publius. You wanted to discuss your daughter's journey with us, and we should actually start doing that.” Robertus flashed another toothy smile at his impudent guest.

For Marcus, it looked like the hiss of a panther that was about to attack, but for Publius Flavius Secundus, it most likely looked like the smile of a man who was about to fall for him.

“Yes, of course, my dear, dear Robertus. I know my sweet little dove in the best hands possible with you!” Secundus rolled his eyes again, sauce dripping from his lips and onto his toga.

Marcus furtively spat the cherry pit into his hand and put it down on the plate for the not eatable leftovers, cleaning his hands with the damp cloth lying next to his plate. He sipped from his water in the desperate hope that he would be able to swallow the small bite in his mouth without choking on it if he gulped it down with some liquid.

Secundus emptied his mug filled with heavy red wine with slurping sounds, and Marcus drew in a shaky breath, uttering a silent plea at Minerva to gift him with enough endurance to make it through the evening without embarrassing himself in front of the two other men. When he dared to look at Robertus again, he found his commander staring at the two thin boys crouching before Secundus' recliner.

“The journey of your daughter is a serious and delicate topic in times like these, Publius. It would be good to discuss it without listeners. It would be better to let your slaves wait outside until we're finished with our important conversation,” the legatus now said, and every single man under his command – even the newbies - would have known instantly that his polite words were a clear order and not debatable.

“But Robertus! They are only slaves! They are too dense to understand anything!”

The two 'dense' boys flinched, ducking their heads deeper between their shoulders than they already had.

Robertus pursed his lips, and Marcus' anger faded just a tiny little bit, because he had realized his superior's intention after one look in his impassive face. The legatus might be not considerate of Marcus' feelings and trying to manipulate him far more often than he should, but Robertus wasn't a cruel man either, and everyone with eyes in their heads could see that Secundus' slaves were starved and didn't get enough food.

If Marcus had to guess, then he would bet that Rufus was lurking outside in the hallway, waiting for the poor creatures to be sent away so he could take them to the kitchen and feed them properly.

“You would be surprised about what slaves are able to hear and understand, my dear Publius. You don't want anything bad to happen to your daughter, do you?” The panther licked with the tip of his tongue over his lips, his blue eyes sparkling as he looked Secundus deep in his own fishy ones.

“Of course not, my dear, dear Robertus!!” Secundus writhed under the piercing glance, a shiver of arousal wrecking his fat body, and Marcus had to avert his eyes as one with gravy coated hand wandered down to his crotch. The shiver wrecking his own body had nothing to do with arousal, at all.

“Hush, hush, Castor, Pollux, leave us alone! Your Dominus has to discuss some important matters, ha ha ha!” Secundus waved with his free hand at his two slaves as if he wanted to chase away some insects, and the two boys hurried to their feet and left the dining room on their toes in the same way they had come in. Marcus felt utter relief and deep gratitude by the thought of Rufus taking care of them for a while.

 

***

 

Robertus cleared his throat when they were alone, drawing Marcus' attention back to him. “You told me that your daughter wants to visit her family in a few weeks. The journey will be along the border and lead through some dangerous terrain, so I'll have to provide her with enough guards to grant her safe return. How long does she plan to stay?”

Secundus wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking confused because he suddenly had to serve himself. “A couple of weeks, maybe one or two months, it depends on the circumstances. You will surely accompany her yourself, my dear Robertus? I would even think about leaving my important business in the hands of my housekeeper for some time to support you!”

If the fat merchant had been a wolf, Marcus was sure that there would be slobber dripping from his chaps now.

The dark-haired legatus frowned. “You didn't really believe that I would accompany Claudia myself, Publius? I'm the commander of this garrison and can't leave my post just like that!” He shot a quick sidelong glance at Marcus that should probably be an apology Marcus wasn't inclined to accept at the moment only the slightest.

“I will send my best man with her, together with enough legionaries to grant her safety,” Robertus now continued, his voice slightly hoarse. “My second-in-command Marcus Retus will protect her as if it was me myself doing it, and he will bring her back to the loving arms of her father in one piece and unharmed, you have my word on that.”

The blond centurion had known that this would come for a rather long time, but it still hurt like hell that Robertus hadn't bothered to talk with him beforehand. His decision was logical and reasonable, and the task itself wasn't what upset Marcus that much. He had done such jobs for Robertus more than only once, and Claudia was a sweet young woman and kindhearted and lovable. Marcus didn't mind seeing to her safety only the slightest, after all, protecting important members of the Roman society was one of his jobs. But that his adored and beloved superior let Secundus use him in this more than obvious way was something Marcus couldn't forgive just like that.

He knew the plots of politics and diplomacy well enough from his father, but still...

“Marcus Retus?!” Secundus cried out when he had recovered from his obvious shock. “But he is only a simple centurion! He is not worthy enough to only look at my precious little dove!”

This time, it was Robertus who let out a dangerous growl, narrowing his eyes and not trying to hide his anger any longer. “Marcus is my first centurion and more than worthy and capable of granting your daughter's security! He is the best second-in-command I've ever had, and only the circumstances and the long distance to our beloved capital has been the reason for the delay of his overdue promotion. To ease your with fatherly worries troubled mind, I can assure you that Marcus won't be a 'simple' centurion anymore when he will see to your daughter's safety. A letter from our beloved emperor has reached me today, the great Tiberius has given the permission to promote Marcus Retus because he has fulfilled his duties in a more than outstanding way so far. I am the one having the honor and the pleasure to promote him myself here in Augusta Treverorum due to the imminent departure of Claudia and her entourage, and I will fulfill the emperor's order gladly and gratefully. Not the centurion Marcus Retus will accompany her, but the tribunus Marcus Retus, and your beautiful daughter and you will be my honored guests during the ceremony that will take place here in my villa in a couple of days.”

Robertus' smile could only be called gleeful, and all Marcus could actually do was gape at him in shock and disbelief.


	6. Two Men Fighting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robertus visits Marcus in his quarters after the most awful dinner of his entire life. Will Marcus be willing to listen and talk to him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter says it all, Marcus and Robertus fight again, their cautious truce already over...
> 
> My dear readers, thank you so much for the amazing feedback you have gifted this story with so far, please keep it up, your kudos and wonderful comments are what keeps me writing for you, each of them cherished and loved. I hope you will enjoy the new chapter, the hard times are not over, and Marcus and Robertus will have a long, winding and very rocky road ahead of them, that much is sure.  
> Please share your thoughts with me, I really want to know what you're thinking about our two fighting Romans. :-)

Robertus didn't know what kind of reaction he had expected coming from Marcus after his announcement of his imminent promotion, but he realized that he had made a big mistake when he saw the look on Marcus' handsome features. The legatus had surely awaited seeing surprise in the beautiful amber-green eyes staring at him, and if he was honest to himself, then he had hoped for some signs of joy or at least contentment.

What the dark-haired legatus had definitely not expected was the barely hidden rage and anger behind the surprise, a reaction he really didn't deserve in his own opinion. The tall commander of the garrison of Augusta Treverorum had never met any soldier in his life so far who wouldn't have been excited about being promoted and getting such a high rank at a rather young age. Marcus' narrowed eyes yet proved to him once more that there were always exceptions from the rule and that he didn't know his first centurion and secret lover as well as he had wanted to believe, something that irritated and frustrated Robertus more than it actually should.

The older Roman had hoped that their make-up fight and Marcus' promotion would lead to a better understanding between them, but as things stood, his words had merely served to make the younger one become angry at him again, and Robertus could only hope that the damage wasn't as big as it seemed to be judging by the dangerous fire glowing in the golden eyes regarding him furiously.

“Tribunus Marcus Retus?!” Publius Flavius Secundus now squeaked, gaping in disbelief at the young man lying motionless on his recliner with his eyes burning a hole in Robertus' face.

The legatus swallowed, hoping that his voice didn't give his disappointment about Marcus' reaction away. “Yes, Tribunus Marcus Retus. His promotion is well earned and deserved, and I am pleased that our gracious emperor followed my advice and honored his merits with the more than overdue promotion to the rank of a tribunus,” he said, capturing Marcus' gaze with his own intense glance.

The younger soldier's jaw worked, and the fire in his eyes didn't fade, but his voice was calm and polite when he finally acknowledged what his superior had done for him. Marcus must know that a lot of other superiors wouldn't have done that for their subordinates, fearing that their underlings could become too powerful and try to replace them on their posts if they expedited their promotions.

“I have to thank you for your recommendation then, Legatus Robertus Levantus. I feel honored to become your tribunus and serve you as such.” The blond Roman bent his head in a respectful bow before him and as strange as it was, but this sign of seemingly willing submission only boosted the impression of Marcus being a beautiful and unconquered wild animal, an untamed and free, beautiful horse or a dangerous lion. His soon-to-be tribunus might bend his head before him, but he wasn't defeated, only accepting that Robertus had temporarily won the upper hand, having wrapped a minor battle up but not the war itself.

The dark-haired Roman hated the thought of being at war with Marcus, but the golden fire burning in the beautiful lion's eyes told him that the truce he had achieved with his fight only a couple of hours ago was over, and that he would have a hard time negotiating another truce or even a peace treaty.

“You more than deserve it, Marcus,” he said, hoping that the sincerity in his voice would be proof enough for the younger man that he hadn't wanted to deceive him. Robertus had actually wanted to inform Marcus about his promotion before Secundus' arrival, but his desire for the blond had distracted him, something he regretted deeply now.

The dark-haired legatus had always been proud of his self-control and his reasonable behavior, but both seemed to vanish in the air the minute Marcus Retus merely came into sight, turning the proud commander into a mess of desire and far too strong suppressed emotions. Emotions no proud Roman citizen should feel for another man, even more when both of them were honorable and brave soldiers of the Roman empire. Emotions that simply wouldn't go away, no matter how hard Robertus tried to get over them.

“Congratulations then, Marcus Retus!” Secundus' spat out hateful words pulled Robertus out of his dazed state and he blinked, finally able to avert his eyes from the man he desired with every fiber of his being. The fat merchant watched them with narrowed eyes, and the Roman legatus realized that he had to be more careful in the future of he didn't want the older man to find out about his forbidden relationship with his subordinate.

Not that Robertus really believed that Marcus would invite him into his bed any time soon again, his to a thin line pressed lips and his angry glare proving to Robertus that he had really screwed it up this time. But Publius Flavius Secundus was much more sensitive and observant than he had given him credit for, and the good-looking commander suppressed a sigh and smiled at his unwelcome guest with false honesty and delight.

“I am sure that your beautiful daughter will travel as safely as only possible, my dear Publius, only my best legionaries will accompany her, you have my word on that!” he assured the older man and after one more moment, the merchant relaxed, returning the smile with exaltation. “I trust you, my dear, dear Robertus, I am sure that no harm will come to my sweet little dove under the protection of your – _tribunus_!” Secundus yodeled, side-eyeing the blond soon-to-be-tribunus with barely hidden jealousy and disgust. Robertus stifled another sigh, resisting the urge to shift his weight under Marcus' silent stare and Secundus' reproachful look.

“She will return to you healthy and unharmed, Marcus Retus will see to that. He is my best man and I trust him with my own life,” he said, risking a quick, almost pleading glance at his first centurion. Marcus didn't smile, but the fire in his eyes had lost some of its force, and Robertus felt the tiniest spark of hope again. Maybe, he hadn't done too much damage. Maybe, Marcus would be willing to listen to him and hear him out after some time had passed. Maybe, Marcus would even forgive him one more time.

Robertus Levantus clung to this tiny spark of hope and finally dared a cautious smile at the younger man because after all, hope was always the last thing to die.

 

***

 

Marcus Retus was still fuming with righteous anger when he entered his quarters one hour later, after having made it through an endless and more than horrible dinner with Robertus Levantus and Publius Flavius Secundus and his two poor painted slaves. Castor and Pollux had shot hidden glances of adoration and devotion at Robertus and his housekeeper Rufus when the red-haired Celt had brought them back, furtively licking their lips with pure bliss in their eyes. They had quickly lowered their heads down to the ground again, but the knowledge that the poor boys had been able to fill their stomachs properly had helped him to endure the dinner without actually losing his composure in front of the awful sycophant.

The fat merchant hadn't wanted to leave, gobbling down the food the dark-haired military commander had offered while continuing to undress and literally eat the beautiful legatus with his greedy, fishy eyes until all Marcus had wanted to do was scream and shout.

Robertus had done his best to make polite conversation with both of them, but Marcus hadn't been in the mood to play along and had given only short and snappy answers. He knew that he was behaving like a defiant child, but the unexpected announcement of his promotion in front of the annoying merchant without him having known about it beforehand had been more than Marcus had been able to swallow.

Marcus had endured the evening with a stoic mask on his face, and it had cost him all of his strength. When Secundus had finally realized that Robertus wouldn't invite him to stay overnight and maybe even invite him into his own bed, he had struggled onto his fat feet with an indignant face and waddled to the exit with his two poor slaves in tow, almost stumbling over the laces of his sandals because of his nose held up far too high to look where he was going. Marcus had left Robertus' villa together with the citizen of Augusta Treverorum without any other word or glance back, although Robertus' blue eyes had silently asked him to stay.

The young centurion pulled the toga over his head with a hiss, throwing it carelessly over the backrest of the chair before his washstand. He was far too worked up and furious to even think of trying to sleep, his head throbbing with the pain of his suppressed anger and hurt feelings. Instead, he started to pace up and down in his bedroom with balled fists, taking deep breath in the futile attempt to calm himself down.

Marcus had really thought that Robertus was serious about wanting to make up with him and start anew, his behavior and their almost kiss before Secundus had interrupted them giving him hope that there was more between them than only sex.

The sight of the dark-haired legatus had taken Marcus' breath away when he had entered the dining room, the magnificent deep-blue toga over the simple white tunic intensifying the rich blue of Robertus' astonishing eyes and making his tanned skin glow and shine in a wonderful bronze color. Robertus was the most beautiful man Marcus had ever seen, neither needing any jewelry nor makeup like so many other Romans to look beautiful and arouse the desire of young ladies or other men, and his desire for the older Roman had overwhelmed Marcus like it always did when he laid his eyes upon him, even more because of the honest smile his commander had gifted him with when he had entered his dining room.

But then, Secundus had arrived and disturbed them, interrupting their kiss and ending their cautious truce in the cruelest way possible. Marcus inwardly slapped himself for his ignorance, naivity and stupidity, of course he should have suspected that the merchant wanted Robertus to marry his daughter for far more selfish reasons than only searching for a good man for his little dove. The evidence of Secundus' ugly intentions had caught him by surprise, nevertheless, and Marcus had felt utter despair by the thought of the dark-haired legatus marrying the merchant's daughter Claudia.

The blond Roman didn't believe that Robertus would lower himself down that much to actually give in to Secundus' 'courting', but his lover had been too friendly to the impudent merchant for Marcus' liking and peace of mind. The ugly beast called jealousy had raised its head while Marcus had watched Robertus smiling at Secundus; and it refused to crawl back into the dark cave from where it had come again, its mocking laughter echoing in the young centurion's head and increasing his headache until he feared that it would explode. Marcus felt new ire burning in his throat and his guts by the memory of Secundus' hungry stares, and he flinched when he heard himself growling with helpless anger.

The blond soldier turned around on his heels again, starting another round of his restless pacing just when the door to his quarters suddenly opened and the man occupying his thoughts emerged on the threshold.

Marcus stopped in the middle of the room, staring at his superior as if he was a ghost until Robertus finally broke the heavy silence between him and spoke up, his voice impassive and calm as he said: “I need to talk to you, Marcus.”

 

***

 

Robertus had mused whether or not he should go to Marcus and try to talk to him when the most awful dinner of his entire life had finally been over, but he had realized soon that he wouldn't be able to sleep without at least trying to do so anyway. To his luck, Rufus had said nothing, only helped him to undress the toga before leaving him alone and see to the leftovers, and the dark-haired legatus had paced up and down in his bedroom for several minutes before he had decided to give it a try and visit his centurion in his bedroom.

The impressive commander had even been willing to apologize to his first centurion again, but as he now looked in Marcus' amber-green eyes shooting angry fire at him again, his bad conscience was replaced by annoyance and irritation.

Damn it! Marcus was the son of one of the most important and surely most skilled Roman senators, he knew how politics and diplomacy worked, how could he dare holding Secundus' behavior against him? Because this must be what made him look daggers at him, considering how Marcus had smiled at him before the fat merchant had entered his dining room. Robertus lifted his chin up and his gaze hardened as he silently closed the door behind him.

The blond centurion hadn't invited him to come in, but Robertus didn't care about keeping up appearances any longer and wait for the younger one's permission. He wanted to talk to him, and Marcus would listen to him, after all, he was his underling and had to obey his orders.

The younger man's mouth tightened, and he narrowed his eyes. “I didn't invite you to come in, legatus! It is pretty late and this is my private room, you have no right to intrude my privacy like that!” he hissed through gritted teeth, and Robertus unconsciously balled his fists.

“It's not as if you had already been in bed, centurion!” he retorted, keeping his own voice calm only with effort. “I am your superior and I told you that I need to talk to you, so I actually don't need your invitation or permission!” The dark-haired commander knew that he was risking even greater damage than he had already caused, but he was too tired, angry and desperate to care about that.

“I have nothing to say to you!” Marcus snapped, his chest heaving with his ragged breathing. Robertus could see that he had balled his fists as well, and he was reminded of a beautiful but dangerous lion once more, the big golden cat readying itself to attack the black panther.

“Fair enough, Marcus Retus, then just listen carefully to me!”Robertus started, stepping away from the closed door and closer to his furious centurion. If looks could have killed, Robertus would have been dead by now, but the heated and fierce glare Marcus 'gifted' him with only served to let the fire of his own rage burn higher and higher.

“I am sorry that I didn't inform you about your task earlier, but until that evening, it wasn't even clear whether or not Secundus' daughter would visit her relatives in Mogontiacum. You already knew quite well before this evening that such things belong to your duties and that you would have to fulfill them sooner or later. I am aware that Publius Flavius Secundus is a rather unpleasant contemporary, but his daughter is a sweet young lady and deserves to be protected.” Robertus went silent, inwardly slapping himself. He had wanted to say something else, something more conciliatory but Marcus' hard and almost hateful glance simply brought the worst out of him.

“Accompanying and protecting a young Roman lady is _not_ what annoys me, commander!” Marcus growled, not willing to back away. He returned Robertus' measuring glance with defiance and passion, unfortunately the passion of ire and not the heat of desire. “And what is it that annoys you that much, Marcus?” he asked, even though he of course knew the answer to his more rhetorical question.

“You're not seriously asking this question, Robertus, are you? If you were only my commander and I were only your underling, you would perhaps be right with telling me off. But as things stand, we are not only superior and underling, and you didn't come here as my commander, but only as Robertus! Don't even try to deny the truth! How dare you treating me like this? At first, you ignore me for five days, not bothering to come to me and talk, at all, and this after what happened in your bath between us! Then, you try to lure me into false security by fighting with me as if you really wanted to make up with me for your behavior, right before ordering me to show up at your place to have dinner with you and this impudent creature. You know that Secundus hates me, and yet you force me to endure watching him slobbering all over you for hours, having to listen to his insults and his attempts to lure you into his ugly bed!  
And this only minutes after your sweet talk giving me the impression that I was your welcomed guest and you having tried to kiss me the minute before he showed up! Not to mention the cherry on top of all of this shit that is you informing me about my 'imminent promotion' in front of this... this... idiot! What the hell did you expect me to do? Kiss your ass or your feet because of my overwhelming gratitude? I even don't know whether or not you were serious about this promotion or if you only said that to calm him down and not ruin your chances of becoming his 'son-in-law'!”

Marcus stared at him, two deep red spots replacing the paleness of his cheeks. The golden lion had bared his teeth, his beautiful eyes shooting lightnings at Robertus, and the dark-haired legatus felt a hot wave of desire rushing through his veins, making his blood boil with passion and lust.

By Jupiter, this man was the most desirable and amazing being in the entire world, and Robertus stepped closer to him without thinking, reaching out to run his fingers over his flushed features. “I would never lie to you in such an important matter, Marcus!” Robertus tried to defend himself, giving his voice a tender touch, his fingertips brushing over Marcus' trembling bottom lip. “I am sorry for not having told you about your promotion earlier, Marcus, I really am. I wanted to do that, telling you about my request and Tiberius' answer in private, but I received the letter only today after our fight, and I hadn't gotten the chance to do that before Secundus' arrival. It was the best way of silencing him and making him stop insulting you further.”

Marcus however wasn't really calmed down by his desperate explanation, shoving his hand to the side and raising his balled fists as if he wanted to punch him. “Don't you dare touching me, legatus, never again! I have enough of your lies and your excuses, and I won't let you use me again just like it pleases you! I'm not one of those golden painted toy boys this asshole needs to get it up!”

Robertus roared, the comparison with Secundus a serious attack against his maleness and finally too much for keeping his composure. He jumped forward, his long suppressed desire and his helpless anger winning the upper hand and blotting out all reason. The experienced fighter was hard to defeat when it came to close combat, but Marcus had learned from the best – namely Robertus himself – and when Robertus vigorously pushed him against the wall between his bed and the washstand, Marcus managed a hard blow against his shoulder and a kick against his knee that made Robertus roar again.

The dark-haired legatus saw red, trying to trap Marcus' wrists with his left hand while tearing at the cord around Marcus' waist. The leather gave in with a ripping sound and Robertus growled triumphantly, his right hand darting under the now loose fabric of the younger man's tunic to pinch his hard nipples while pushing his knee between the blond's legs. Marcus hissing growl sounded like the attacking roar of the furious lion he actually was, and he kicked Robertus again, making him lose his balance. Robertus stumbled back and fell down to the ground, pulling the younger soldier with him as he went down.

Both men landed on the wooden floor before the bed with a loud cracking noise, and the pain shooting through Robertus' back took his breath away for one moment. Marcus used his moment of disorientation to press him down, straddle him and pull at his tunic, the linen giving in with a sharp noise as it was torn into two halves by Marcus' violent grip. The blond centurion snarled contentedly, but before he could do more damage to the poor clothing, Robertus pushed himself up with all the strength he could muster, turning around with a quick move to trap the fighting centurion underneath him.

He pinned his hands down over Marcus' head, his blue eyes shining in a dangerous light. “Don't you ever dare comparing me with this creature, Marcus Retus! I'm not like Secundus, at all!” he said, his quiet voice sounding far more dangerous than anybody else's screaming and yelling would have.

The younger Roman stared up at him, his face white like snow except for the two crimson red spots on his cheeks. “I hate you, Robertus! You're licking Secundus' toes just like any of his slaves to get his approval, and I hate you more than anything! I wished I had never met you!” he spat out, his voice full of venom and disgust, and Robertus had to use all of his strength to not beat him for his insult and his provokation.

Instead, he bent down until their faces were only inches apart, his own hovering over the blond's, the heat of his anger sensible for the younger one this way. Marcus froze underneath him, and the fear flashing in the amber-green depths for the blink of an eye satisfied and pleased Robertus as much as it brought back his common sense. No matter what Marcus might throw at him in his anger and how much he tried to provoke him, he would neither beat him like Marcus had probably hoped he would, nor force himself upon him again, never again.

Robertus just loosened his tight grip around Marcus' wrists and waited for his reaction, prepared for the younger man shaking him off and attacking him again. When the young centurion didn't try to do that, just lay there and looked up at him, Robertus allowed the small, smug grin to tug at the corners of his mouth.

“You might hate and loathe me with all your heart, Marcus Retus. But you also desire me, no matter how much you're fighting against me!” he purred, his predatory smile deepening when the blond's nostrils flared and the hard pressure against his butt cheeks proved to Robertus that he had been right with what he had said about Marcus desiring him.

“You have been right that I have neglected you over the last days, but I will make up for not having come to you earlier now, my proud lion. I will prove to you that I am not the least like the fat merchant, my beautiful Marcus, and I am sure that you will like it,” he whispered against the young centurion's lips, his intense gaze sending a heavy shiver through Marcus' motionless body.

The younger man licked with his tongue over his dry lips, his Adam's apple twitching with his audible swallow, and when Robertus was sure that Marcus wouldn't try to attack him, he closed the remaining distance between their faces and captured Marcus' mouth with his hot lips in a searing and fierce kiss.


	7. The Panther And His Lion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robertus came to Marcus after the dinner, wanting to talk to him, but they ended up fighting with each other. What will happen after Robertus' kiss?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post this chapter today because I won't be at home for two days from Tuesday on. I even delayed my beloved story 'One Year With The King' to let you not wait for too long for this chapter. Writing angry Leweus with passionate sex seems to be my favorite to write at the moment, yesterday 'If Things Were Different', today the panther and his lion.  
> Thank you for your support and approval to the last chapter of this story, I have to admit that I need your kudos and comments to keep on writing, and the lack of that to my two other recent stories has discouraged me a lot, making me question my writing. If you like this story and this chapter, please let me know, I can't do this without your support.

Robertus' kiss seemed to burn Marcus with its passion, and the young centurion found himself frozen in place by the unexpected attack of his senses, unable to shake the older man off or fight against him.

Only one minute ago, they had been fighting, spitting out insults and seriously trying to hurt each other, but the very next minute, Robertus was kissing him like Marcus had longed to be kissed ever since he had entered Robertus Levantus' office and looked him in his deep blue eyes for the very first time.

This second kiss was totally different from the first kiss he had gotten from the impressive legatus, it was heated, fierce, raw and not the least tender, but it was yet a real kiss and not the punishment it had been when Robertus had kissed him for the first time in his bath, five days ago.

If it had been only a punishment again, Marcus would probably have been able to fight against it, but as things stood, everything he could do now was melting underneath the older man and responding to the kiss as if his life depended on it. He was still angry and deeply hurt, his feelings for the other Roman soldier an overwhelming mixture of hate, love, fury, longing and passion, and the hot mouth upon his own trembling lips didn't leave any room for reasonable thoughts that would have helped him to end this fight in any other way than kissing Robertus back with all he had.

When the dark-haired legatus sensed his surrender, he slowly released Marcus' wrists to wrap his arms tightly around him in some kind of protective embrace instead, and Marcus took advantage of that instantly by burying his fingers in the thick shock of dark curls to pull Robertus' head closer and deepen the kiss hungrily and impatiently.

The blond centurion had kissed a lot of times before, women and men, but none of these kisses had been like this one. Kissing another man felt always different from kissing a woman, not only because of the other man's stubble scratching over his own stubbly chin and cheeks or the thinner lips grown-up men usually had. The kisses he had exchanged with other men so far had normally been just another kind of battle or fight between two males trying to win the upper hand, or they had just served to silence their moans and grunts during a hasty fuck or jerking off session to not get caught.

Marcus had always been fine with that, enjoying the kisses without missing them too much when he and his temporary lover had had to part due to their jobs. He hadn't loved any of the few men he had slept with, and even though he of course had always truly liked and respected them, but he had never truly longed for their kisses the way he longed for Robertus' kiss.

This was also the reason why Robertus' first kiss had almost devastated him, being only the punishment it had meant to be; and why this second kiss felt so different from any other kiss Marcus had ever felt upon his lips before.

The legatus was clearly still as angry as Marcus himself felt, and he didn't try to hide his hurt, anger and confusion, but the way he moved his lips upon Marcus' own ones, the way his tongue explored the soft cavern of Marcus' mouth now, was totally different from how he had kissed Marcus back then in his bath.

The older man kissed Marcus as if kissing him was the only really important thing in this world, as if he would never want to stop kissing him again. Robertus kissed him as though he wanted to learn everything about Marcus and the secrets he tried to keep to himself that was to learn about him, his lips and tongue discovering everything and reaching deeper and deeper until Marcus could feel his touch and his kiss in the deepest shadows of his heart and his soul.

Robertus kissed him as if he wanted to take him in, completely, becoming one with him and pouring his own soul into him. The dark-haired Roman Marcus loved so much kissed him like no other being had ever kissed him before, and all Marcus could do was clinging to his broad shoulders under the torn tunic and return the kiss as if there was no tomorrow.

The young centurion forget the hard wooden floor he lay upon, he forgot his anger and his hurt as his world shrank to the spot where their mouths were connected in the most amazing kiss possible. His tongue hurt from the effort of exploring Robertus' mouth as thoroughly as the older man had explored his, and his body arched up against the older man's strong frame to its own will, telling Robertus how much Marcus desired and needed him despite his hateful words. The dark-haired Roman purred contentedly into his mouth when he sensed Marcus' temporary surrender and will to release the tension between them in a much more pleasurable way, pulling his right arm free to caress his flank and his thigh instead, pushing Marcus' tunic upwards to let his calloused fingers glide over his bare flesh.

Marcus shivered, a soft moan fleeing his lips, and his own hands carded almost tenderly through Robertus' hair before traveling downwards to knead the hard muscles of Robertus' back shifting under his ardent caresses. Their encounter was still rough and furious, the heat of their passion fueled on by their fight and their ire, the tenderness overlaid with the rawness of their hurt feelings. Marcus was aware that having sex with Robertus would neither solve any of their problems, nor calm their anger in any way, but he couldn't bring himself to care about that right now.

The young centurion knew all of this, and he also knew that he would most likely regret what they were doing the next morning when the sun would crawl over the horizon again, announcing another day of endless and hurtful struggles and fights. Yet, he wasn't able to push the older man away like he probably should, craving for his touch and his kiss with every fiber of his being. No matter how much he might hate Robertus, yelling insults and hateful words into his face, but he simply couldn't stop loving him, and Marcus also couldn't resist him, even though he hated himself for his weakness and his far too easy defeat.

His head was spinning when Robertus finally drew back from his swollen and tingling lips, looking down at him with dark eyes, his pupils blown with his desire. Marcus could feel the proof of the dark-haired Roman's desire pressing against his hipbone, Robertus' impressive length as hard as his own aching member.

“You might hate me, my beautiful Marcus, but you can't deny how much you desire me. You might be angry with me and loathe me for not having come to you, but you're still craving for my touch. Your mouth might be lying to me, telling me that you don't want to have anything to do with me and that you wished you had never met me, but your body betrays you and tells me the truth. Your words might be full of hate and disgust, but your eyes tell me that you need me and that you will never be able to resist me!” Robertus whispered hoarsely against his trembling lips before kissing him again, ripping his own torn tunic from his tanned body and throwing it carelessly to the side.

Marcus suppressed another shiver when the heat of Robertus' naked body seeped through his rather thin piece of clothing, and the blond centurion started to wriggle underneath the aroused male pinning him to the ground to get rid of the offending garment keeping him from feeling Robertus' hands on his skin. When the dark-haired legatus realized what his was trying to do, he shifted his weight and removed Marcus' tunic in a surprisingly gentle way. It proved to be a little bit difficult though, because neither Marcus nor Robertus were willing to let go of the other one, and Marcus found himself groaning with impatience when Robertus ended their heated kiss to pull the tunic over his head. “You could have ripped it open!” he complained, but his superior shook his head, his ardent lips leaving wet and hot traces on his vulnerable throat. “That would be a pity, Marcus. You look stunning in this special tunic, the color is perfect for you, my beautiful lion.”

The blond centurion froze again, the unexpected petname taking him by surprise and leaving him at loss for words. “You haven't been that considerate when you have damaged my favorite belt!” he finally croaked out as reproachfully as he was able to with the desire coursing through his body, and Robertus raised his head to smile at him, his lips shimmering wet in the soft light of Luna shining through the small window. Marcus hadn't bothered to enlighten the torches and candles when he had come back, but the almost full moon provided the chamber with enough light to let Marcus see Robertus' face, and the lust and passion he could detect in his deep blue eyes made his blood boil in his veins.

“I will make up for your loss, my beautiful lion, don't worry.” The older man brushed with his thumb over Marcus' tender bottom lip, and the blond centurion was sure that Robertus would kiss him again, but instead, his commander glided down on his body, his lips never leaving his flushed skin as he did so. Before Marcus even knew what was happening to him, his commander had pulled his loincloth over his narrow hips and taken his aching arousal in his mouth.

 

***

 

Robertus had dreamed of doing this ever since he had laid his eyes upon his new centurion for the first time, the question of how this astonishing and remarkable Roman would feel, smell and taste like hammering in his mind until the normally level-headed commander had thought that he would go crazy about it. He had always denied himself his most urgent wish, fucked Marcus through the mattress countless times ever since their secret and somewhat unhealthy arrangement had started, but he had never dared to do what he longed to do so badly until this night.

The legatus strained his eyes to not miss any of the younger man's reactions to his ardent and rapturous ministration as he took him deep in his waiting mouth, and the strangled cry of lust and need he drew from his shivering lion with the first stroke of his agile tongue made him growl low and deep in his throat with satisfaction. The black panther was going to 'eat' the golden lion, to claim him and taste him until all his beautiful prey could do was to submit unquestioningly to him.

Robertus was determined to drive the younger man as crazy as he had become over his desire to do that for him, to blow him until Marcus would scream and shake with ecstasy, feeding him with his delicious and precious seed until he had nothing more to give. Until he would lay there, unable to move anything but his little finger because of the satisfaction only Robertus could give him. Until the fierce yellow-white glow of hate and anger in his eyes would soften to the warm golden shimmer of love and happiness.

Robertus knew that he shouldn't crave for Marcus' love and devotion, not when these two things were something he couldn't give him back the way the younger man would have deserved it. Two men couldn't love each other – were even nott allowed to love each other – at least not when both men were proud Roman citizens and soldiers. But Robertus simply couldn't stop longing for Marcus' love, and he pushed his bad conscience vigorously to the side and focused on doing what he had wanted to do for such a long time instead, licking with his tongue over the sensitive and wet slit crowning Marcus' gorgeous manhood.

The sound making its way to his ears was as amazing as the sight of Marcus' flushed face, his beautiful features suffused with lust and ardor, head thrown back onto the wooden floor in passionate submission.

Robertus could see Marcus' pulse racing under the pale skin of his swan-like neck, and the mere sight of the younger man submitting to him and his own desire like this, the golden lion baring his vulnerable throat to the dangerous panther this way, would have been enough to make him come untouched right there and then.

But Robertus wasn't done with his prey, wasn't done with turning Marcus into a panting and quivering mess, and he clung to the last shreds of his self-control and ignored the sharp pain of his unfulfilled desire and concentrated on pleasuring his soon-to-be tribunus as best as he could.

The commander of the garrison of Augusta Treverorum was rather experienced when it came to giving blow jobs, much more experienced than he was when it came to receiving them. He knew that most of the high ranking Roman officers would have frowned at that, thinking that no commander should lower himself down like that, preferring to see their underlings on their knees before them, but Robertus had always preferred to be in control about everything he was doing. Letting another man do that for him - even more when it was a proud soldier instead of a slave – would have meant to give up his control for some time, while giving a blow job meant that he could stay in charge and keep a clear mind while driving the other man crazy with need and desire.

Robertus had never had any problems with keeping a clear mind while blowing another man, but he realized soon enough that it was much harder doing that when it came to his beautiful lion.

Seeing Marcus writhing underneath him like he did, incapable of holding back his breathless sounds of pleasure and lust, aroused the proud legatus more than anything else had ever aroused him, even more than taking Marcus had aroused him so far. Feeling the heavy weight of his wonderful cock pressing against the inner sides of his cheeks, the thick shaft twitching with every stroke of his lips and his tongue was simply amazing, and Marcus' unique taste was more than intoxicating and exciting.

The sensitive head was wet with the salty drops of his lust, and Robertus licked them up, dwelling in the sensation. His eyes hurt from his efforts to keep them fixed on Marcus' handsome features, but he couldn't have cared less about his own comfort at the moment, too grateful that his centurion let him do this for him, being the proud and tough Roman soldier normally preferring to stay in control like Robertus himself he actually was.

“By Jupiter, Robertus!” the blond now moaned, his entire body trembling with the attempt to hold back and last a little bit longer. Robertus purred around his cock, the vibrations serving to increase the stimulation of his stiffened lips gliding up and down on the throbbing shaft. The dark-haired legatus mused about finishing his lion right away, but it felt too good to finally be able to do this, and he wanted to last it longer as much as Marcus struggled for that. He squeezed the base of the impressive manhood jerking in his mouth and slowed down the pace of his movements, pulling a frustrated mewl from the younger man with that.

The older man chuckled with delight, letting the younger one's cock slip out of his mouth to enjoy the sight of the deep red length glistening with pre-come and his salvia, the thick vein at the underside pulsing frantically with the need for release. He blew softly over the sensitive head, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. His hand was still wrapped around the base of Marcus' member, and he snaked his other hand now between his quivering butt cheeks to caress him on his most private parts. It was rather easy to push one finger inside, the wetness of Marcus' lust serving as some kind of lube and avoiding serious discomfort by the first intrusion. Marcus' desire had loosened him up more than Robertus had hoped it would, and he bent down to take him back in his mouth. His reward were more mewls and gasps, and Robertus had to use his own weight to keep the blond centurion from thrusting his hips up uncontrolledly.

Marcus' tight walls clenched around his finger in the attempt to swallow it deeper, and his cock grew harder and thicker, a clear sign that his prey was close to losing the last shreds of his control and feed him with his pleasure any time soon. Robertus drew back again just before it was too late, and the desperate whimper escaping the younger one's lips made his heart clench with a hot wave of tenderness.

“Robertus... don't make me beg again, not tonight!” Marcus' angry and desperate plea felt like a knife stabbing right into his heart, and Robertus swallowed hard and soothed his lover with a tender kiss onto his thigh. “I won't, my beautiful lion, I promise. Just let me enjoy you a little bit longer... please...I need to...” For once, the impressive commander didn't care about his own voice sounding as pleadingly as his centurion had sounded, if him begging Marcus to let him do this for him undid at least some of the damage he had caused so carelessly and stupidly, then Robertus would beg him again to make Marcus feel better.

The blond centurion relaxed by his words, but Robertus could see him clenching and unclenching his fists several times. “I'll give you what you need, my Marcus, I promise, just let me pleasure you for a little while longer. I've been waiting so long for this...Please.”

For a short moment, they just stared at each other, and Robertus readied himself for Marcus shaking his head and telling him to finish him right away. The dark-haired Roman knew that he was playing a risky game, it was not that unlikely that Marcus would start to fight again and send him away after having gotten his fill, denying his superior his own release as a punishment for the hurt he had done to him. But Robertus was willing to take this risk and let Marcus punish him this way.

The seconds stretched to minutes and the minutes to hours but then, the younger Roman nodded his head. It was only a tiny motion, but Robertus' sharp eyes saw it, nevertheless.

“Thank you, Marcus.” Robertus hadn't realized that he had held his breath until now, and he inhaled with a shaky smile and bent his head down again to go back to his passionate task. Marcus didn't close his eyes like he had done before their little talk, instead, he struggled into a more upright position, putting his weight onto his forearms braced against the wooden floor to watch Robertus and keep eye-contact with him.

The two soldiers measured one another with their piercing glances, and Robertus was reminded of the beautiful big cat again, Marcus' in the moonlight golden shimmering amber-green eyes boosting this impression. The blond centurion exhaled with a sharp hiss as Robertus now started to suck him again, pushing two fingers at once back into his velvet-like channel, his lion's ardent gaze spurring him on to give his best and make the other male lose his control and scream with ecstasy.

His mouth hurt from being spread around Marcus' cock for so long, because it had been a rather long time since he had last done this for anyone, but Robertus welcomed the pain and only increased his efforts to satisfy his beautiful lover better than ever before, his eyes roaming over the handsome male features. As astonishing as it was, but Marcus didn't try to hide his emotions, letting his lust and desire display on his face unhindered, soft sounds escaping his throat and filling the fragrant air with their sweet music.

Robertus lost all tracks of time while he sucked, licked, teased and pleasured his centurion, the black panther craving to taste his beautiful and proud lion and make him bend his head in sweet surrender for at least a short moment again. He needed this, he needed to taste Marcus and feel his love tonight, needed it more than he had ever needed anything.

No other being had ever made him feel like he felt now, and Robertus was scared and relieved at the same time, his eyes silently begging the proud and brave warrior shivering with need and lust to trust him enough and give up his control just for a short moment.

Marcus seemed to understand his unspoken wish, and he actually seemed to be consoled and willing enough to grant him what Robertus needed so badly, because his moans became louder, and he didn't try to control the shivers of arousal wrecking his frame, he just kept looking Robertus in the eyes, his sharp gaze blurring visibly with the first wave of his orgasm.

Robertus relaxed his throat and swallowed the impressive length as deep as he could, his fingers brushing over Marcus' sweet spot to intensify his lust and boost his ecstasy to incredible heights. The young centurion struggled to keep his eyes open as the sensations of mind-blowing ecstasy washing over him threatened to close his lids against his will; and his one single, strangled and hoarse cry of satisfaction was the most wonderful sound Robertus had ever listened to.

Marcus' release tasted as delicious as Robertus had thought it would, and he swallowed eagerly each and every drop of salty pleasure his younger lover was willing to feed him with, the hot spurts of his seed rushing down his throat proving to him that Marcus had found the satisfaction Robertus had craved for him to find. He licked the softening cock clean when his exhausted lion had nothing more to give, pressing one last gentle kiss on its head before releasing it from his mouth with a wet sound.

Marcus moaned softly at the loss of the warmth surrounding his spent member that nicely, shivering when Robertus pulled his fingers out of him and sat back onto his heels. The dark-haired legatus waited silently for his lion to send him away, guessing that Marcus was still too angry to let him stay. When the blond centurion didn't do anything than just watch him, his heart sank, and he grabbed for his torn tunic to cover himself again.

“What are you doing, Robertus?” Marcus voice was calm and quiet, the fury and hate all gone from it. The older man paused, looking at him again. “Leaving you alone to grant you some rest and peace of mind, Marcus. I didn't think that you would want me to stay.” Robertus' voice was too husky and trembled too much for his own peace of mind, but he probably owed Marcus this evidence of his insecurity and regret.

His lion regarded him with a thoughtful expression. “Will you kiss me again, Robertus?” he finally asked, his tone giving nothing away of what he thought.

Robertus swallowed. He hadn't expected this, and he didn't make the mistake of taking Marcus' question as a sign of his forgiveness. The panther knew that it would cost him much more than a few kisses to get the lion's forgiveness for what he had done to him.

“If you want me to, my beautiful Marcus,” he said, hoping that his voice didn't sound too needy and eager. After all, he was a proud and tough Roman officer and needed to keep at least some of his dignity.

Marcus' eyes darkened for a moment. Then, he forcefully pulled at Robert's hand, taking him by surprise and making him lose his balance with that. The dark-haired Roman slumped forward, almost crushing the blond with his weight as he fell on top of him. His useless tunic landed beside him, lying forgotten in a small heap on the wood as Marcus smiled provokingly at him and pulled his head down until their lips crashed together in another fierce and passionate kiss.

“I do, Robertus, I really do.”


	8. Let Me Hear Your Moans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus asked Robertus to kiss him again after the legatus had satisfied him with his mouth. What will happen next? Will Robertus get his fill as well?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually didn't want to update any of my other stories except for Dancing in the Moonlight, but lovely mariothellama's and Janie94's works about Robert and Marco made me think about Robertus finally deserving to get his own fill after the long wait. Apart from that, this story has finally reached the 100 kudos today, and this might be a reason to celebrate.  
> The next updates of this story and some of my other works, especially 'Dancing in the Moonlight' or 'Black Moon' will depend on your feedback. If you want to know what will happen next and me to update these stories, then let me know and leave feedback under them, your kudos and comments are crucial for me to go on with my WIPs.

Marcus couldn't quite tell how they had made it to his small bed, Robertus must have pulled him up somewhere during their ardent kiss after the most incredible blow job he had ever gotten in his entire life. He still felt all mushy and boneless after the intense pleasure of his orgasm, but their kiss wasn't less heated than their first kiss had been, the one truly remarkable kiss before his superior had started to suck his mind out of his head and right into his cock with his hot mouth, leaving no room for any coherent thought.

The blond centurion – soon-to-be-tribunus? - Marcus still wasn't sure whether or not Robertus had only been kidding - of course knew that the older man was manipulating him, had been manipulating him ever since he had decided to break his own rule about men not kissing each other. The dark-haired military commander of Augusta Treverorum's garrison only kissed him to get what he wanted from him – Marcus' forgiveness, his good-will and surrender – but the younger man had no strength left to fight against him, nor did he actually want to fight.

All Marcus wanted was to win back his peace of mind, and Robertus' fierce and passionate kiss erased his thoughts and worries to a level where only pleasure and arousal were left, granting him the forgetting he craved for so much for at least some merciful hours.

The younger Roman lay flat on his back with Robertus on top of him, the long and elegant fingers of his commander buried in his short red-blond hair to keep Marcus' head in place. Robertus' tongue was buried deep in his mouth again, imitating the act of lovemaking, and the tension in the muscular and well-shaped male body above his own left no doubt about the legatus' desperate need. Robertus' impressive manhood pressed hard and wet against Marcus' abs, smearing drops of arousal over his flushed and sweaty skin, and Marcus felt his own member stir ever so slightly by this even though he was still deeply sated from his first height. The narrow hips pressing him into the mattress were making tiny, jerking movements to get more friction and ease the pain of Robertus' unfulfilled desire while they kissed, without the dark-haired Roman even noticing it.

It was clear that Robertus needed to find his own satisfaction more than anything, but he didn't try to act on it and simply kept kissing Marcus like he had asked him to do. Marcus could easily have punished him by ordering him to leave, but as angry as he felt, angry hurt and betrayed, Marcus yet loved Robertus too much to do that to him. Maybe, if Robertus had tried to pull rank and orderd him to submit to him and grant him his own release, he would have fought against him in earnest and forced his commander to leave him alone. But Robertus hadn't tried to do that at all, and he had also made clear without really saying it that something like what had happened during the night in Robertus' private bath would never happen again.

No, Robertus would never force himself upon Marcus in any way again, and the younger Roman loved his commander too much to leave him aching and unsatisfied. But two could play the game of manipulation, and Marcus was determined to for once be the one in charge and make Robertus do what he had craved for for so long: moan for him without holding anything back.

He wriggled his hips in a seductive manner, pressing his fingers into Robertus' strong-muscled butt cheeks. “What are you waiting for, my proud hunter? You have defeated the lion, he's lying underneath you, ready to be taken. I want you to fuck me through the mattress until all I can do is scream! Fuck me hard and show me that you're worth the lion's surrender!” he purred against Robertus' swollen lips, suppressing a contented snarl when his words had the desired effect, because Robertus couldn't keep the ardent moan from fleeing his lips when his throbbing cock brushed over Marcus' damp skin.

The dark-haired legatus raised his head to look at him, his blue eyes almost black with the force of his desire. Another, feral sound escaped his throat, guttural and needy. Marcus was pretty sure that none of Robertus' former lovers had ever gotten the chance to hear the proud soldier making such noises for them, baring his teeth to an expression of almost animal-like lust. The realization that he was the only one being able to make the reserved commander lose his self-control like that was like the strongest aphrodisiac, making him hard and aching again within the blink of an eye. Robertus growled deep in his throat when he sensed his prey's new arousal, bending his head to lick over the salty skin on Marcus' vulnerable throat. The blond centurion let him do this for a moment, tilting his head to the side to give his panther better access. He snaked one hand between their sweaty bodies to wrap his from holding the reins and a sword calloused fingers around the proof of Robertus' utter maleness, the thick and hard manhood twitching as he did so.

Robertus' cock was an impressive sword itself, dangerous steel that could tear someone apart if used as a weapon of war and fight instead of lust and pleasure, the smooth, silken touch of its thin velvet-like skin-surface deceiving easily those who didn't believe in the power of such a sword. Marcus didn't underestimate its real power though, and he actually wanted Robertus to make good use of his sword, showing him the force of his unrestrained passion. He was tired of the legatus holding himself back like he always did when he took Marcus, turning his subordinate into a panting mess with his thrusts while staying silent and controlled himself the entire time.

Tonight, Marcus wanted all of him, wanted to feel the force of his desire for him and hear the black panther's growls and moans of lust and ecstasy. The blond Roman stroked up and down on the throbbing cock, careful to not use too much pressure and make Robertus come from his caresses. It was clear that the older man was already close, worked up from their fight, their passionate kisses and the blow job he had given him, and Marcus didn't want to risk that his panther would come before he was buried to the hilt inside him.

“I need to prepare you more...” Robertus now hissed against the throbbing spot where he had sucked at his neck, and Marcus was certain that his commander had left his mark upon him visible for their underlings to see the next day, but he didn't really care about that. Marcus doubted that anyone would dare to ask him who had been the one leaving their mark on his throat, and he knew about the rumors telling about him having sex with Marius now and then. Marius would be the only one knowing the truth, and Marcus could easily pretend that Publius had been willing to share his slaves with Robertus and him, an in the Roman culture accepted practice. Marcus loathed it, but was willing to play along for Robertus' sake and reputation.

“Don't worry about that, you've already done that. Besides, I've taken you without preparation before, so why bothering about it now, Robertus?” Marcus challenged him, adding a little more pressure. He didn't want to annoy him, only make him lose the last shreds of his control to get what he wanted at least one time.

Knowing that Robertus would try to hold himself back again if Marcus watched him, the blond Roman pushed against the older one to turn on his front underneath him, throwing a challenging look at him over his shoulder. He would have preferred to watch Robertus' beautiful and expressive face, but hearing his moan was more important to him tonight, and he knew that he couldn't have both without pushing the dark-haired Roman too far.

“What are you waiting for, my beautiful hunter? The lion is yours tonight, so prove to me that you know how to make good use of your prey! Fuck me hard, I want you to!” he purred, licking over his from their kisses still red and bruised lips that curled into a small smile when Robertus' eyes lit up and he hissed again, truly sounding like a big and wild cat that was about to attack another panther intruding its territory. Panthers were solitary animals, accepting no other specimen of their own kind in their territory, but Marcus wasn't another panther, he was a lion, and lions didn't let themselves be scared away by hissing panthers. He would challenge the black panther to another, more passionate and satisfying fight than the one they had fought earlier, and he wouldn't rest until he had gotten what he wanted, Robertus' hoarse admission that Marcus was the only one able to satisfy him completely.

The dark-haired Roman had no strength left to resist his lion any longer, and Marcus watched him taking the vial with the oil to line himself up with shaky hands. When Robertus was done, covering Marcus' back with his hot body again, the blond centurion pushed himself up onto his knees until he was crouching before his lover with his face buried in his arms folded on the pillow and his ass raised in the air. His posture was a posture of utter surrender and invitation, and Marcus knew that he would never have even thought of letting Robertus take him like that only one day ago, but Robertus also hadn't kissed him like he had kissed him tonight ever before, and Marcus still craved for his moans.

If this position would make the proud soldier moan and gasp for him, then Marcus was willing to for once submit freely to him just to get what he wanted so badly in return.

“Fuck me, Robertus, fuck me hard!” His harsh order echoed in the silent room, and Robertus obeyed his order without hesitation, ramming himself into Marcus' quivering hole with one powerful thrust.

The blond Roman let hear Robertus his own strangled cry as he struggled to adjust to the forceful intrusion, the sword he had craved to feel deep inside him breaching the tight ring muscle and pushing into him, threatening to tear him apart with its power. Both men gasped and groaned with the sensation, Marcus taking several deep breaths as he forced himself to relax and take him in, and Robertus doing the same as he forced his hips to stay still until Marcus would stop clenching around him.

It was like the younger man had thought it would be, the normally controlled and reserved commander was far too gone to keep up his iron self-control and stay silent any longer. Marcus could feel his body shivering constantly with the need for release, and the rock-hard member throbbing against his hot walls was another proof of Robertus' painful desire.

Yet the older Roman waited for Marcus' hoarse “move!” before he started to pull out and shove himself into him again, his short nails digging hard into Marcus' hipbones to keep his centurion from moving away. Marcus had no intention to do so, he wanted to be pounded into the mattress like Robertus now did, impaling him on his hard weapon and slamming into him in a hard, fast and almost punishing rhythm.

Marcus' cock twitched with every powerful thrust, leaking drops of milky pleasure onto the sheets beneath him, but he suspected that Robertus would finish before he was close enough to come with him. That was something he actually appreciated tonight, because he wouldn't be able to focus on Robertus' pleasure and his sounds of lust if he was trapped in his own ecstasy. Usually, it was the other way around, the dark-haired commander waiting for Marcus being distracted by his own orgasm before he allowed himself a short moment of giving up his control, and the mask was always back on his face before his centurion could catch a glimpse of his feelings.

But not tonight. Marcus might not be able to see Robertus' face, but the panther's gasp and growls filled the with male pheromones heavy air, pheromones that spoke of fight, challenge, sex and lust. Marcus tightened his pulsing walls around Robertus' twitching cock, and he was instantly rewarded with the strangled moans he had hoped to evoke. Robertus was kneeling behind him, his body shaking in the hard grip of his arousal and painful need for release, and his thrusts became more and more erratic and uncontrolled with every violent snap of his hips. The sweat of his arousal rolling down on his naked torso and thighs intermingled with the dampness on Marcus' body, and the young centurion dwelt in the intoxicating and unique scent of the man he couldn't stop loving, no matter how hard he tried.

Robertus smelled of fresh and clean sweat, of horses, leather, steel and fresh air, but most of all, he smelled of himself, and Marcus inhaled deeply to taste him on his tongue, turning his head to the side to not choke when his face was shoved into the pillow again and again with every hard thrust.  
Marcus would be sore the next day, having to be careful with riding and sitting on the hard chair in his office, but getting Robertus' groans would be worth the discomfort.

“By Jupiter, Marcus! My beautiful lion, you are truly a delicious prey!” The older Roman now ground out, stroking with one hand over Marcus' back in a soothing and almost tender gesture before clenching his fingers around his backside again. Marcus hadn't expected the proud legatus to admit his pleasure that clearly, and he took the tender caress as what he was, Robertus' way to express his gratitude about the younger one granting him that he could keep his dignity and privacy when he lost himself in the throes of passion. Of course, Marcus should have known that his superior would see through his attempts to pull some ardent noises from, guessing that it would be easier for Robertus to give his lover what he wanted when he didn't watch him.

They both knew each other well enough after their long time of working, fighting and living that closely together, one of the reasons why Robertus was so careful with not giving up his control most of the time.

But tonight he was willing to do that at least partly, because he let his moans and grunts flow freely as he chased his own release, the hoarse and throaty noises he made an echo of the sounds of wet skin slapping against wet skin and Marcus' own strangled gasps the relentless pummeling pulled from him.

Robertus didn't try to hit the small and very sensitive spot hidden deep inside him to make sure that Marcus would come with him, he knew what his lion wanted from him, and he simply kept battering Marcus' burning hole and passage with his hard sword, his fingertips leaving their marks on Marcus' hipbones.

The blond centurion enjoyed every single second of their passionate encounter, a for a secret watcher probably violently looking act. But there wasn't anybody watching them, and this was what he had longed for for the entire evening: Robertus possessing him with all he had, finally showing him that he desired Marcus with the same force as Marcus desired Robertus. If he had to kneel before him with his face buried in his arms to make sure that Robertus could finally let go, then so be it.

“Marcus... sweet Venus... Marcus!!”

The younger Roman was shoved forward forcefully when Robertus hit his peak almost without warning, his husky and strangled cry the only indication that his superior had reached the very edge of his self-control before fast and hot spurts of pure and painful ecstasy spilled against his walls, filling his secret core with the panther's claim. Marcus held his breath and strained his ears to not miss the tiniest gasp of Robertus' breathless hisses and growls, and he contracted his muscles around the shooting manhood to intensify the older man's pleasure and satisfaction. Robertus shook and shuddered behind him with every new wave of ecstasy wrecking his body, and time seemed to stretch to a little eternity until his commander had nothing more to give and the sensation of warm jets massaging Marcus' cramping channel finally subsided.

Robertus slumped forward, almost crushing Marcus with his weight. For some seconds, they simply lay there, Marcus pressed into the mattress by the heavy weight of Robertus' now limp and relaxed body, and the blond Roman had to brace his palms against the pillow at each side of his head in order to be able to breathe. He didn't try to shake the older man off through, enjoying the weight and the warm puffs of air of Robertus' sated purrs tickling his ear. After two or three minutes, the dark-haired legatus nuzzled his throat with his lips and shifted their bodies to snake his hand into the small slit that was left between Marcus and the mattress. He wrapped his fingers around Marcus' hard cock and started to stroke him in a lazy rhythm, his other arm coming around Marcus' shoulder to lift him up a little bit and support his weight.

Marcus gratefully took a deep breath to fill his starved lungs with the needed air, but his exhalation turned into a needy moan almost instantly when Robertus brushed with his calloused thumb over the with his arousal slick and wet tip of his cock.

“Ah yes, you like that, my proud lion, don't you? You like it when the panther has trapped you, demanding your submission and your sweet defeat, my beautiful Marcus, right? Oh no, don't do that, don't hold back. I gave you my sounds of pleasure, now let me hear yours!” The older man purred into his ear, his strokes becoming a little bit faster. Marcus had been close to his second climax when Robertus had filled him with his seed, and his arousal returned with full force when the dark-haired legatus increased the pressure and pace of his skilled caresses, his lips nipping tenderly at his sensitive earlobe.

The blond centurion knew that the panther was watching him closely, their faces only inches apart and this time, the fact hat Robertus could see his lust and pleasure that clearly while he hadn't been able to do the same didn't anger him but aroused him incredibly.

“Come on, Marcus, moan for me!” Robertus started to tease his ear with cat-like licks, and Marcus shivered, struggling to put his weight onto his right forearm without causing the other man's now soft cock to slip out of his tender hole. He clenched his walls around the still rather impressive member and covered Robertus' tanned hand with his own paler one to take control of his strokes. Robertus chuckled but let him do it without objection, pulling Marcus' earlobe between his teeth. His deep blue eyes burned a hole in Marcus' face, and when the blond centurion opened his own amber-green ones to look at him, their gazes locked.

Robertus' expression was surprisingly unguarded, hungry and displaying the pleasure he drew out of getting his lion off together with Marcus' help, and when he let go of his tingling earlobe to kiss Marcus again, both men kept their eyes open and watched each other while they kissed, short kisses with lips and tongues teasing, licking and stroking. Marcus would have liked to deepen their kiss, but this would have meant that he couldn't watch Robertus watching him any longer, and the sight was simply too arousing to even think of that. His cock was throbbing desperately with the need to come, and Marcus was glad that his commander didn't try to torture him but simply stroked him to completion with great skills and single-minded determination. His moans escaped his lips almost against his will, and Marcus didn't recognize his own voice when he croaked out: “please, I need to...”

Robertus' arm tightened around him, and his gaze became dark with something that could only be tenderness. It was only for the blink of an eye, but Marcus had seen it, and he relaxed gratefully and let the heat of his imminent release build at the end of his spine without trying to fight it like he had done it so often when Robertus had used Marcus' desire for him to force him into submission.

“I know what you need, my beautiful lion. Just let go and come for me.” Their hands moved up and down on Marcus' twitching and leaking cock in perfect unison, and their eyes never broke contact while Robertus nibbled at his mouth, silencing his moans and licking with his tongue over Marcus' smooth bottom lip.

“Ah, yes, just like that, Marcus, give it all to me,” the dark-haired legatus whispered when Marcus lost the battle against his lust, pleasure erupting from his cock in ardent spurts. It bristled over their entangled fingers and soaked the sheets underneath them, but Marcus didn't care, his overwhelming ecstasy capturing his entire body. His abused hole cramped around Robertus' cock still buried inside him with every new wave, and Marcus lost all tracks of time, his senses focused on his pleasure and the man granting him complete satisfaction only. Robertus held his gaze until the hot sensations of his climax subsided to the softer ones of the afterglow, finally stilling their hands on Marcus' oversensitive flesh. Marcus relaxed gratefully in his strong lover's arms, murmuring a hardly audible “thank you, Robertus.”

For a short and precious minute, they stayed like this, their lips still slightly touching before the older Roman slowly pulled away and smiled briefly at him.

Marcus' vision blurred with exhaustion when his limbs became heavy with satisfaction and tiredness, and he protested only weakly when Robertus loosened their tight embrace to get up from the bed after one last tender stroke. “It is late, Marcus. You need to sleep, so let me clean you up and make sure that you will get the rest you need.”

The young centurion's eyelids dropped against his will, his body going limp as it succumbed to the slumber of pleasant relaxation. “I'm still angry with you for trying to manipulate me!” he whispered without opening his eyes again when Robertus gently ran a damp wash cloth over his bare skin to clean him up, and the last thing he heard was Robertus' wistful sigh. “Yes, I know, my beautiful lion. I didn't think that you would forgive me that easily. Now sleep. Tomorrow is another day where we can talk about it, when you're well-rested enough to listen to my explanations.”

Later, Marcus was never sure whether Robertus had really kissed him tenderly on his forehead or if this had only been a pleasant dream.


	9. Still Angry?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus and Robertus had passioante sex after the horrible dinner, but has Marcus really forgiven Robertus, or is he still angry with him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am in the mood for Leweus lately, and I had some time and decided to update one of my favorite stories and see to my proud Romans.  
> I hope that you will enjoy the new chapter as much as the last one, your feedback would mean the world to me. <33

“And how did your dinner with our commander and this creepy merchant go?” Severus asked curiously the next morning when Marcus sat down beside Marius in the officer's mess to have a quick breakfast before his usual morning routine. The brown-haired optio only smiled at him because he was still chewing on his bite, and Marcus smiled back at Marius, resisting the urge to flinch when the younger man's attentive eyes traveled to the mark on his throat that was only partly hidden under the collar of his armor.

“I wish you a good morning too, Severus,” Marcus greeted the second centurion with mockery lurking in his voice, trying to buy himself some more time before he would have to answer the other blond's questions. Severus only grinned at him. “Good morning, Marcus. Now that this is said and out of the way, please don't keep us hanging any longer, we all want to know every little detail about your surely astonishing evening.” Severus jerked his head in the direction of two young legionaries, one with dark hair and the other one with blond hair. “Julius and Patricius were on guard duty yesterday when Secundus arrived with his slaves. They said that his slaves looked like two cupids and that Secundus' clothes were - hmm – a challenge for the eyes, so to speak.”

“Don't you have better things to do than to gossip around, legionaries?” Marcus scolded the two Romans to hide his own embarrassment. Julius and Patricius had the decency to blush, but Marcus knew that his words wouldn't keep them from telling everyone they would meet what they had seen and witnessed the previous evening.

“We're sorry, centurion, it's only that this man... it actually hurt to look at him,” Julius defended himself, and Marius, who had finally swallowed his portion down, chuckled at this description. “You should perhaps offer Secundus to teach him some lessons in good taste, Marcus,” he smirked. “I saw you yesterday when you were on your way to Legatus Levantus' villa, and you were truly a more than stunning sight.”

Marcus shot his friend a quick sidelong glance, but Marius only smiled innocently at him, busied with chewing the next huge bite he had quickly stuffed into his mouth into a portion he could swallow again. “Thank you, Marius. It was an official dinner, and I know what I owe my family and their good name and reputation,” he defended himself because he felt the sudden need to explain himself to his men. They all knew that he preferred to wear his armor or simple clothing like a linen tunic, and he didn't want them to think that he had become conceited overnight or wanted to impress someone in particular – which he had actually wanted if he was honest to himself - but this was none of anybody else's business.

Severus spoke out loud what the others thought, at least if their understanding expressions were any indication. “Of course you do know that, Marcus, this is out of the question. You couldn't follow Robertus' official invitation dressed in your armor or a simply white tunic, and it was good that you showed this arrogant and impudent minion who you are and that you belong to one of Rome's most powerful families. I have met him a few times when I was patrolling the city, and his demeanor is simply unbearable. But poor you and poor Robertus having been forced to endure Secundus' sight for hours. A purple toga over a red tunic and golden sandals, really? What kind of man would wear such clothes?!”

Marcus relaxed and chuckled, finally able to see the funny side of the previous evening now that he was reassured of the unwavering loyalty of his men. “Yes, really. My eyes started to water at the beginning. But this wasn't the worst thing. His eating manners matched with his appearance, and he didn't even care about ruining his – astonishing - toga with stains while he shoveled his food into his mouth.” The blond centurion considered his friend with a grin. “Unlike you, Marius - who tends to take far too huge bites but always manages to grind them to deglutible portions with your mouth remaining firmly shut – but Secundus chews with his mouth being wide open and he even talks while he does, so you can probably imagine what happens when he eats...”

The other Romans at the table shuddered and “boohooed!” at that, pulling truly disgusted faces, and Marcus felt warmth pooling in his chest and his abdomen. A lot of Romans shared Secundus' eating habits and manners, but none of his men belonged to them. They all knew that discipline was crucial for their survival in this hostile country, and Marcus felt blessed to command them and call himself their superior.

Marcus Retus would do everything for his men, and he would endure as many unpleasant dinners and fights with Robertus as needed for his men's sake. He of course knew that Robertus knew that and took advantage of his own unwavering loyalty far too often, but Marcus didn't care about that in this moment, all he cared about where his legionaries laughing with him and the strong bond their camaraderie had formed between them.

Marcus would deal with Secundus and Robertus later when he had to, until then, he would fulfill his duties with the same passion and devotion as he always did, no matter whether it was raining or of the sun was finally shining again in both senses of the meaning, the real and the literally one.

 

***

 

Marcus felt his determination crumble when he arrived at the training arena an hour later and found Robertus already waiting for him. The dark-haired legatus looked as good as Marcus remembered him in his light armor, and the way the deep blue eyes looked at him let a shiver of arousal run over his spine. The memory of their passionate encounter was still as fresh as if Robertus had left him only a few minutes ago, and he swallowed and tried to keep his own face impassive.

“Good morning commander,” the blond centurion greeted the older Roman, and Robertus gifted him with one of his rare honest smiles. “Good morning Marcus. I hope you're in the mood for another training fight.” There was a strange undertone in the legatus' voice, and Marcus stepped closer to make sure that Severus and Marius fighting a couple of meters away from where Robertus stood wouldn't listen to them.

“Another attempt to make up with me for what you did yesterday, Robertus?” he asked, and the other man pursed his lips to a challenging observation and let his eyes travel over Marcus' figure. “This will come later, my golden lion. You must still be sore from our – fight – yesterday, a warm bath would ease the pain in your... muscles. I would be inclined to invite you to join me in my private bath later this afternoon and let Rufus massage your back and your shoulders.”

Marcus raised one of his elegant blond eyebrows. “Do you think it appropriate to favor a simple centurion like this, commander?” he inquired mockingly, surprised that he didn't feel the anger he had expected to feel at Robertus' new attempt to order him around. Instead, he felt anticipation and found himself actually enjoying playful banter.

Robertus growled deep in his throat, his eyes starting to glint as he invaded Marcus' personal space. “But we both know that you are not just a simple centurion, Marcus, don't we? You were my first centurion and you are my tribunus now, so sharing my bath and the skilled services of my slave with you is more than appropriate.” His voice was the contented purr of a predator that had effectively trapped its prey, and the slight shiver wrecking Marcus by his words wasn't lost on Robertus and increased the sparkling in his eyes.

“I'm not your tribunus yet, Robertus,” Marcus reminded his superior huskily, and the dark-haired commander narrowed his eyes in displeasure at his stubbornness.

“Yes you are. The emperor's letter is the real promotion, the official ceremony I will perform the day after tomorrow doesn't really matter in this case.”

Marcus stepped back. “It matters to me and our men.”

Robertus sighed and his face softened a little bit. “I know, Marcus. You will get the proper ceremony you more than deserve. But for me, you have already been my tribunus for a rather long time, and I am glad that Emperor Tiberius finally sent the order to make it official, which was more than overdue.”

Marcus felt touched by the honesty he could hear in Robertus' voice. The man he loved with all his heart had considered him his tribunus for a long time, valued him and his services for their beloved Roman Empire, and this was almost as good as a love declaration was. Only almost, but still. “You really felt this way?” he wanted to know, hating it that his voice trembled, and Robertus nodded, willing to reassure him.

“Yes I did and I do.. Will you follow my invitation, Marcus?”

Marcus couldn't keep the small smile from curling at the corner of his lips. “Which one? The invitation to fight with you or the invitation to join you in your private bath?”

Robertus' eyes became dark. “Both.”

Marcus straightened his shoulders and took the wooden sword. He could see from the corner of his eyes that Severus and Marius had stopped their fight and were watching their two superiors, but they respected their private talk and didn't come closer.

“I will fight with you, Robertus,” he agreed, “but I have to think about the second invitation for a while longer.” Marcus was aware that he would not be able to resist the temptation, but keeping his smug commander in suspense for a while longer wouldn't hurt.

Robertus' jaw worked, but he nodded. “That's understandable, Marcus. I really hope that you won't decline it though,” he said, admitting his desire and his yearning for his beautiful lion without really speaking it out loud with his answer. The dark-haired Roman raised his own sword and took up position, and Marcus jumped forward to attack him, losing himself in their fight once more as the soldier in him took over control.

There was still anger and hurt between them, but Robertus finally started to open up to him and perhaps, they could make a new start and get over their hurt. Only time would tell, but Marcus was willing to try it and give Robertus a second chance.

 

***

 

“The tribunus will come, don't worry about that, Dominus.”

Robertus peered over his shoulder to scowl at the red-haired Celt, but Rufus shaking his head with a frown made him bury his face in his folded arms again. “Don't do that, Dominus, I had just relaxed you enough to start with the real massage,” his personal slave and housekeeper chided him, and Robertus huffed a heartfelt sigh. “Every other Roman would beat you for your impudence, slave.”

“You mean every other Roman except for you and Marcus Retus, Dominus. The two of you are not like any other Roman, and this is actually a good thing, because Augusta Treverorum wouldn't be the garrison it is if you were like one of them. Besides, you are actually glad that you have someone you can talk to openly about your feelings without having to fear that your secrets and confessions will be told to others and become common knowledge, so stop pretending to be angry with me. I thought that we were way past this, Legatus Robertus Levantus.”

The dark-haired Roman craned his neck again, but this time to smile at his loyal confident. “We are, Rufus, and of course I am more than glad and grateful. I'm sorry, I'm just nervous, I guess.”

Rufus smiled back, kneading his master's shoulders with great skills and long-time practice. “I know, Dominus. But I told you that you don't need to worry. Marcus will come to you, so please stop fretting over nothing and let me do my job.”

Robertus chuckled weakly, the sound muffled by his naked arms. “What would I do without you, Rufus?” he asked, and he really meant what he had said.

“You'd be lost without me, Dominus. But this won't happen unless you'll decide to sell me, so you don't need to worry about that either.”

The young legatus swallowed, and his voice was husky and deadly serious when he assured his faithful friend: “this will never happen, Rufus. But don't you want to get your freedom one day?”

Rufus' warm hands didn't falter in their doing, and the Celt's voice was as firm as Robertus' had been. “I'd rather stay your slave than getting my freedom and having to leave you then, Dominus.”

Robertus knew that the older man had spoken the truth, and he felt humble and touched that the Celt who had once been a prince of his tribe felt this way about him. “Thank you, my friend, your friendship and loyalty is truly a precious gift. I hope that you will trust me enough to come to me and tell me if you will ever change your mind about this.”

“This won't happen, Dominus, but I give you my word that I will come to you if circumstances will ever force me to change my mind.”

Robertus nodded. “I have prepared everything in case that I will die, Rufus,” he said. “My wish is that you will be a free man in case of my death, provided with enough money to start a new life.”

“Thank you, Robertus. This is all I need to know to be happy with my life. Will you let me massage you, please?”

Robertus sighed again, but it was a relieved and contented sigh this time. “Of course, Rufus, of course. Not that you will get mad at me and punish me...”

The laughter of the two so different men who were yet close friends wafted through the warm air of the recreation room that belonged to Robertus' bath, and the commander finally relaxed and let his confident do his job, trusting Rufus' words that Marcus would come to him. Rufus had never been wrong so far, and all Robertus had to do was trusting the Celt like he had always done, trust him and keep up his hope that Marcus wouldn't let him down and not come to him, because after all, hope was the last thing to die, wasn't it?

 

***

 

Rufus had finished massaging Robertus' strained muscles a while ago, leaving his Dominus to his own devices after seeing to both men having enough food, light wine and water when Marcus would finally show up, knowing that the legatus and his first centurion preferred light meals and to stay sober and not get drunk. Rufus probably also knew that the 'dinner' Robertus had in mind had only little to do with food, but his personal slave would never say anything about it but protect the legatus and his privacy and make sure that his Dominus could enjoy his time with Marcus without prying eyes and ears.

Robertus was too nervous to wait for Marcus lying lazily on one of the recliners, deciding that he could use the wait for swimming his laps in the pleasantly warm pool instead.

He was just about to get nervous again when a sound coming from the door made him turn his head.

Marcus stood in the door frame, watching him quietly, and the sight greeting Robertus' eyes made his mouth water and his manhood stir.

His tribunus – because this was what Marcus was for him, no matter whether it was officially or not – wore the light yellow tunic he had worn under his toga the previous evening, and the dark-haired Roman took that for a good sign. The small leather belt was another one of course than the one he had worn last night, but Robertus would make up for the loss of Marcus' favorite one as soon as he would get the chance.

Two soft strands caressed Marcus' smooth forehead, and Robertus' fingers itched to do the same. He wanted to stroke and kiss the soft and fragrant skin, shimmering like ivory in the light of the torches, and he wanted to caress every single inch of the beautiful male body until Marcus would moan with unrestrained passion for him. He wanted to swallow these moans with his hungry mouth, and he wanted to feel Marcus' shivers under his hands when his golden lion lost himself in the throes of ecstasy in his arms.

For a long moment, both men simply stared at each other, and Robert couldn't keep the possessive growl inside when his eyes fell upon the mark he had left on Marcus' elegant neck last night. The blond lifted his chin up when he saw where Robertus was staring at, his lips curling into a predatory smile.

The younger Roman closed the door behind himself and opened the belt holding his tunic in place with slow and measured movements, his eyes never leaving the face of his commander. Robertus' nostrils flared when Marcus' musky scent perfumed the air, and his proud manhood grew to full length as he watched Marcus pulling the tunic over his head with the same elegant and well-measured motions.

Then, Marcus stood there in all his shining glory with his head raised up proudly, the small loincloth not hiding that he was as aroused as Robertus was. He let his lover take in his sight without moving, and Robertus realized that Marcus wanted to test him, to find out how long Robertus would be able to resist him and try to appear calm and unmoved. His lion wanted him to make the first move and he wanted Robertus to admit his desire and tell him that he wanted him – that he needed him.

Because this was what Robertus did. He didn't only want Marcus Retus, he needed him. Robertus needed this man like he needed to drink and to eat, like he needed to breathe. Marcus was a fever in his blood, his breath, his heartbeat, he was the reason for everything Robertus did, and Robertus knew that his soul would die the day he would lose Marcus. His own life would be over the day Marcus Retus would leave him, either by dying or by walking away from him, turning Robertus' physical existence into a dark hell where he would be trapped until Marcus would either return to him or until Robertus would die himself.

The proud legatus had never needed anything in his entire life the way he needed Marcus, and it scared him and excited him at the same time.

Robertus was lost, totally lost, and he knew that as he looked up at the beautiful blond Roman, his deep-blue eyes showing his feelings for the younger man rather clearly.

The dark-haired legatus cleared his throat and reached out with his hand, beckoning the man he desired and needed with every fiber of his being to come to him and join him in the pool.

“Good evening, Marcus. I am glad that the golden lion has found his way to me. Don't you want to come here and bathe with me? Don't you want to be the hunter tonight and make me your prey, Tribunus Marcus Retus?”


	10. Another Nightly Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus and Robertus have had another training fight, and the legatus invited Marcus for another nightly bath. Will they fight again or will they finally come a little bit closer?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is my excuse to write a lot of shameless Leweus smut. I should probably focus more on the plot, but Robertus had other plans for this chapter. Plans that surprised me myself pretty much. The last chapter has gotten hardly any comments, I hope you will like this one better. As always, your kudos and comments are my biggest motivation to write the next chapters and update my stories so if you enjoy my writing, please leave them for me.

Marcus stared at the dark-haired legatus, taken aback by his words because the younger Roman really hadn't expected his commander to ever say something like this to him, offering him to be in charge for at least one time that obviously and clearly.

Robertus had always been so proud and distant, and Marcus wasn't sure if he was ready to deal with this new Robertus, although he had longed – even craved with all of his heart and every fiber of his being - to hear the older Roman saying such things to him so badly, allowing him to be the one in charge at last.

Marcus had dreamed of the proud soldier admitting his feelings for him every night, fantasized about turning Robertus into a panting and begging mess like the older man had done it with him so many times, but all he could do now was staring at his black panther who simply looked back at him with hooded dark-blue eyes, treading water and waiting for his lion to make up his mind.

“What are you waiting for my beautiful lion? Shall I call for Rufus for the promised massage before you will get your rightful reward for your promotion and lay your claim on me?” Robertus' husky voice eventually pulled Marcus out of his rapturous staring, and he shook his head and started to bridge the distance between them, stalking over to the pool where Robertus was waiting for him with elegant steps.

“That won't be necessary, my proud panther. Marius already did that for me after our training fight.” Marcus trusted Rufus, and he knew that Robertus' personal slave would never say anything about the things that happened between his Dominus and Robertus' centurion, but Marcus had feared that Rufus' presence would disturb them nevertheless, the cautious truce between Robertus and him too precious to risk anything that could damage this ceasefire again. The blond Roman had waited until he could be rather sure that his commander would be alone in his bath before he had come to him, hoping that Rufus would be sensitive enough to realize that Marcus needed to be alone with Robertus. The red-haired Celt obviously had been sensitive and foresighted enough to assume that Marcus wanted to be alone with his superior, and the young officer was grateful for his understanding.

The dark-haired Roman still waiting for him in the pool narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, but he didn't comment on Marcus' statement, and the blond was grateful for that too. He had assured Robertus that there was only friendship between Marius and him, and he expected the older man to believe him and trust him unquestioningly in this matter.

Robertus watched him coming closer quietly and with a stern face, and if there hadn't been his hooded eyes and his nostrils flaring with his fast breathing, Marcus would probably have thought that the legatus didn't feel anything at all. But the younger one had learned to read all of these small signs that betrayed the older Roman's state and his emotions, and the knowledge that it was him arousing this amazing man that much made his blood boil in his veins and his heart clench with the overwhelming love he felt for his panther. He didn't try to hide his desire and his arousal from the other officer, letting Robertus see his own longing, his erection tenting the small linen loincloth visibly.

Robertus' private parts were hidden under the water surface, but Marcus was sure that he would find him hard and aching for him, and he unconsciously accelerated his steps, needing to feel him close, to taste him and drink him in until they would be like one single being and nothing would stand between them any longer, no worries, no doubts, no Roman Empire and no other man or woman.

The blond centurion – soon-to-be-tribuns – Marcus still couldn't really believe that he would finally be promoted the day after tomorrow – had hesitated to follow Robertus' second invitation at first, but he had realized during the massage Marius had given him that he couldn't stay away from the man he loved. Life was too short to waste the chances you'd been given, as unexpectedly as they might have come to you, and it wasn't that unlikely that something would happen during his next job outside the garrison, when he had to see to the safety of Publius Secundus' daughter and travel through the territories of Teuton and Celtic tribes.

He and his men could get attacked by hostile Teutons at any time, even the possibility that the garrison would get attacked wasn't so small either, and the thought of leaving Robertus and perhaps never seeing him alive again without having made up with him beforehand was simply unbearable.

This was the reason why Marcus had decided to come here and at least talk to the older Roman, and the gratitude he could see in Robertus beautiful deep-blue eyes hidden beneath the burning desire was the proof he needed to know that he had made the right decision.

Marcus stopped at the edge of the pool, staring down at the legatus, who had to crane his neck to meet his gaze. “I will take you up on your offer, Robertus Levantus. Don't you doubt that I will make you my prey tonight!” he said hoarsely, offering his lover a last chance to change his mind and backpedal again.

A strange glint came into the commander's eyes, and a small smile curled at his lips as the powerful soldier lifted his chin up, his heated glance a clear challenge for the younger Roman who was every bit as proud and strong as his superior, two men being brave soldiers with every fiber of their being measuring each other wordlessly.

“There is no shame in being the prey of such a strong and powerful lion as you actually are, Marcus Retus. The taste of my defeat will be sweet and not bitter tonight, so come to me and take what you rightfully earned – and tell me if your victory tastes as sweet as my defeat will surely do.”

A low growl fled Marcus' throat, and the blond ripped the last piece of garment he wore from his body before gliding into the warm and fragrant water, trapping Robertus' strong body between the edge of the pool and his own lithe but not less stronger frame.

The dark-haired legatus was naked just like Marcus had expected it, and the blond silenced his own ardent moan on Robertus' throat and which he couldn't hold back as their hard cocks rubbed against each other for the first time, his hot mouth sucking at the spot where he could feel Robertus' pulse hammering under the soft skin.

His prey for this special night willingly tilted his head back to give his golden lion better access, and Marcus took Robertus' wrists in a steel-hard grip to pin them to the tiles of the pool at each side of his head. He knew that his commander could free himself despite Marcus keeping him immobile this way - not so easily because Marcus was an even match for him when it came to close combat - but still possible for Robertus if he really wanted to. But his panther had obviously been serious and spoken the truth when he had offered himself as Marcus' willing prey, because he didn't fight against him but let his tribunus trap him without objection.

A hot wave of desire and lust washed over Marcus and he growled again, drawing back from Robertus' damp throat to claim his lips in a fierce kiss instead. Kissing his commander felt still so new and overwhelming, arousing Marcus so much more than the sensation of Robertus' proud spear smearing creamy drops of precome against his flat abdomen, and Marcus plundered his mouth and kissed the legatus thoroughly until he had to draw back to fill his starved lungs with air again.

“You're mine tonight, Robertus. Mine to touch, mine to kiss and mine to take!” he snarled, and the dark-haired legatus rewarded him with a loud gasp that revealed how much the thought of for once being at Marcus' complete mercy aroused him. Robertus' cock twitched against Marcus' abs, and the younger man needed all of his self-control to not touch the evidence of his lover's strong desire for him and just jerk him off until Robertus would shake with ecstasy in his arms.

No, Marcus wanted this to last as long as possible, and Robertus' tiny flinch when Marcus had told him that he was his to take tonight hadn't gone unnoticed by the blond. He didn't know whether the older man had tensed up because he had never bottomed for another man until that day – which was a not so small possibility after all – or if it was because he had made some bad experiences when he had been younger, or if Robertus simply didn't want to bottom for a man who was his subordinate.

Marcus wouldn't yet do anything against Robertus' will, even though he suspected the dark-haired legatus probably wouldn't deny him the right to be the one on top at least once or utter his worries out loud, and the blond centurion actually hadn't meant that he wanted Robertus to bottom for him when he had said that Robertus was his to take, only that he would be the one in charge of their passionate encounter tonight.

There had been enough hurt and anger between them, and Marcus wanted this night to be truly pleasurable for both of them, a memory that would warm them when they were apart without the stale taste that he had forced his superior into something he hadn't wanted.

His own member ached with need, but Marcus ignored the pain of his unfulfilled desire and focused on claiming Robertus' mouth again instead, exploring all the delights behind the soft gate Robertus' sensitive lips formed he had waited to explore for so long.

His panther let him do this for a while, responding to the kiss but not trying to take control of it, but this changed when Marcus drew back a little bit tease the other man, Robertus growling low and demanding deep in his throat as he pushed his tongue into Marcus' mouth to claim it as his territory as well. A forceful shiver wrecked the blond Roman, and he started to battle for dominance until their kiss became messy and wet, all tongue and teeth and clawing, Marcus' lips beginning to hurt from being spread wide open for so long.

Marcus had never dared to only dream of being allowed to kiss his commander like this, and it made his mind spin with dizziness because of his forceful desire. It took him some time to realize that their hips had started to move while they had kissed, jerking against each other in the desperate search for more friction and release from the ache in their groins.

He could feel the slickness of Robertus' arousal leaving small traces on his abs despite the warm water splashing around their flushed bodies, and his own rock-hard sword moistened the soft, dark pubic hair covering Robertus' groin. The proud Roman soldier shivered in his arms as he surrendered to his lion and let Marcus explore his mouth again, moaning and gasping at the passionate onslaught. Marcus swallowed Robertus' sounds of pleasure with his lips enjoying how those sweet noises tickled on his tongue.

Nothing had ever felt so good, so perfect.

They had slept with each other countless times, and Marcus had felt Robertus pushing deep into his body that often that he was sure that he would recognize the older man's perfect weapon among hundreds of other cocks with closed eyes.

But they had never shared real intimacy until the night before, never held each other hat close, their bodies pressed as tightly against one another that not one single sheet of thin parchment would have fitted in between them.

Marcus growled ardently, a sound that truly reminded of the roar of a powerful big cat, and his mind was clouded with lust and the sensation of power Robertus' final surrender made him feel. This proud and powerful beautiful being was his tonight, and Marcus would never let any other man take what his panther offered him with such astonishing willingness.

“You're mine, Robertus, all mine!” he snarled at his lips again and again, and the dark-haired Roman shivered and balled his hands in Marcus' iron-like grip.

“Yes, I'm yours, Marcus,” the older man moaned, his voice strangled with lust and arousal. His cock throbbed heavily against Marcus' hipbone, and the younger Roman was amazed about how close the legatus already was from their kisses. Robertus was apparently determined to keep his promise and didn't try to hold back and control his desire, but Marcus didn't want him to come just like that not now that he was finally able to have his way with Robertus for one precious night. He loosened his grasp around Robertus' wrists and lifted him up until the impressive commander was seated on the edge of the pool.

“Lie down and wrap your legs around my shoulders, my proud panther!” he ordered, his voice husky with his own strong desire. Robertus hesitated for a split second before he obeyed, lying back onto the floor and wrapping his long legs around Marcus' shoulders, shivering slightly when his naked and wet back came in contact with the cooler marble tiles of his bathroom floor.

The blond centurion waited until the older man relaxed before he took his narrow hips in the same steel-hard grip he had trapped his wrists with before, lowering his hot mouth onto Robertus' leaking erection. “I will make you moan and gasp for me, Robertus,” Marcus purred, “tonight, you will be my prey and writhe and scream for me!”

It had been a while since he had last given a blow job, Robertus had never allowed him to do that until tonight, and Marcus had never slept with any other man again ever since he had fallen in love with Robertus right at first sight – which had been more than a year ago. But he still remembered how to do it, and Marcus didn't go slow but took his whole length in with one single fluent move, swirling his tongue around the engorged head of Robertus' cock.

The legatus let out a strangled cry of pleasure, and his ankles tightened around Marcus' shoulders involuntarily as he tried to keep his hips still. Marcus knew that Robertus only struggled because he didn't want to hurt his lion and not because he tried to hold back, and he stroked tenderly over his quivering flanks to show him that Robertus didn't need to hold back or worry. Marcus was in control over the other Roman's movements in this position, and he stiffened his tongue and started to massage the thick vein at the underside of the gorgeous cock buried deep in his ardent mouth.

Another strangled cry made its way to his ears, and Marcus' chest swelled with pride and happiness, the audible proof of Robertus' desire and pleasure making his eyes become wet with gratitude and joy. Marcus had longed for the proud commander to admit his feelings at least once, but he hadn't known until this night how much he had actually longed for it. It was different from their encounter last night, because Robertus had more or less still been the one in control back then, turning Marcus into a quivering and moaning mess with his skilled blow job before he had let the younger man hear his own groans and sounds of pleasure.

But not tonight. Marcus wouldn't allow Robertus to change their roles again. Tonight, Marcus would make sure that the proud legatus wouldn't hold back and keep the visible and audible proofs of his desire and pleasure inside, hiding them from his lion, and Marcus bobbed his head up and down on the twitching shaft, his only striving to make the black panther lose his mind with desire and need and voice his ecstasy until their wouldn't be any doubt left that Marcus was the only one who could satisfy Legatus Robertus Levantus completely.

“Marcus, my beautiful lion!”

Robertus' body shivered on the marble tiles, and Marcus strained his eyes to not miss the tiniest sign of his lust, his gaze glued to the sight of the older Roman writhing and shuddering on the floor, Robertus' slim but strong-muscled thighs trembling with his approaching orgasm. The dark-haired soldier's face was flushed with lust, his handsome male features suffused with the pleasure he felt, and Marcus' heart wanted to burst with his own emotions. His commander groaned and grunted for him like he had dreamed of Robertus doing that for him every single night, and Marcus savored and cherished each sound, dwelling in the sweet music of his lover's passion.

“Marcus, my lion, please don't stop!” Robertus almost begged, his voice hoarse with need.

“I won't, my proud panther,” Marcus purred around the throbbing member, licking the milky drops from the sensitive slit. He sucked and licked, stroked, teased and massaged the other man's hard sword with his tongue and his lips while his hands roamed over the smooth, warm skin, kneading Robertus' perfect buttocks.

“I'm close!” the older Roman ground out in some kind of warning, but Marcus didn't need it to know that his panther was about to lose it. The gorgeous cock sheathed deep in the soft cavern of his passionate mouth grew harder and twitched with every stroke, the creamy droplets of Robertus' desire tickling Marcus' tongue.

The blond centurion relaxed his throat as best as he could and swallowed him even deeper, one hand slipping between Robertus' butt cheeks to massage the puckered rosebud of his tight passage.

The legatus roared as he came hard, filling Marcus' mouth with the hot evidence of his forceful release. The younger man eagerly swallowed every single drop his lover fed him with, never faltering in his stroking and sucking, his eyes hurting from the effort to watch Robertus coming for him.

Robertus arched his back and cried out again before he dropped down on the floor, his body going limp when his ecstasy faded to the softer waves of the afterglow, and Marcus licked him clean and released his softening cock from his mouth with a dull 'plopp'. The younger man gently loosened Robertus' legs from his shoulders and pulled him back into the pool, keeping him upright with his own body, his hands braced against the tiles of the pool at each side of Robertus' head.

Marcus longed to hold his lover close and stroke him, but he knew better than to do that, sensing that Robertus would withdraw and start to fight again if he turned their encounter into something the other soldier wasn't ready for – at least not now.

His commander had already pushed his limits and boundaries for Marcus' sake, and pushing him further would only lead to more fights and hurt feelings. The blond centurion suppressed his urge to embrace and kiss Robertus, waiting silently until his beautiful black panther finally opened his eyes to meet his gaze, their bodies touching only slightly and Marcus' calm gaze giving nothing away of the storm of feelings deep inside him.

For several long seconds, they simply looked each other in the eyes before Robertus reached out with his left hand to pull his head in for another kiss. Marcus took his time to explore the tempting mouth of his superior, dwelling in the knowledge that the older man would taste himself on his tongue. Robertus made soft purring noises, his right hand wandering down along Marcus' body to wrap itself around his neglected cock, stroking lazily up and down on his aching member.

“What are you waiting for, my beautiful hunter? Don't you want to take all of your prey?” the dark-haired legatus whispered against his lips, and Marcus opened his eyes and drew back to regard him attentively.

“Are you sure that you really want that, Robertus? Because I don't know if I will be able to stop in case that you'll change your mind again.” Marcus' voice was calm and almost emotionless, only his fast breathing and his dark eyes giving his need away.

Robertus let his gaze travel over Marcus' features as though he had wanted to burn this moment into his memory, stroking his face with tender fingers. “I won't change my mind, Marcus. I'm yours tonight, the golden lion's rightful prey. Take all of me, I want you to.”

There was an urge in Robertus' voice, a strange emotion, and Marcus bit his tongue to not ruin this special moment and ask the older man questions he knew that Robertus wouldn't answer them.

“Turn around, panther!” was all he said, swallowing down the questions burning on his tongue, his words calm but a clear order.

The dark-haired legatus obeyed and turned around, facing the wall of the pool. Marcus stared at the broad back, watching the play of the strong muscles when Robertus grabbed the edge of the pool with his hands and spread his thighs open for him, offering himself to the younger man.

A low, ardent growl fled Marcus' tight throat and he wrapped his arm around Robertus' chest from behind, pressing him against the edge of the pool with his own weight. Something in the legatus' posture told him that the older man didn't want him to prepare him or go slow, and the blond centurion brought himself into position and pushed his hard cock into Robertus' tight heat with one careful deep thrust.

Marcus couldn't take Robertus as hard as the commander of Augusta Treverorum most likely wanted to be taken, because the mere thought of causing the man he loved any pain disgusted him, and he would have preferred to prepare the older one at least a little bit, but he respected Robertus too much to go against his unspoken but clear wish to not do that, deeply touched by Robertus' willingness to let himself be taken.

“You're mine, Robertus, only mine!” the blond centurion growled ardently when he was sheathed to the hilt inside his secret core, struggling to keep his self-control for long enough to give the other soldier the time he needed to adjust. The dark-haired legatus' eyes were squeezed shut as he forced himself to relax and not fight against the intrusion.

“Give yourself to me and let me taste the sweetness of your surrender, Robertus!” Marcus demanded, his lips leaving hot traces along the other man's face and throat. Marcus kissed his way to his cheek until Robertus turned his head to meet his lips, and when the blond sensed him going pliant in his tight embrace, he started to move, pulling almost out and thrusting back in in a torturingly slow and steady pace.

His panther snarled with frustration and pushed his hips back against him to make him move faster, but Marcus tightened the grip of his arm around Robertus' torso and pressed him against the tiles with a warning growl. “Don't fight me, legatus! You're mine tonight and you will give yourself to me and not try to take control!”

The younger Roman bit down on Robertus' bottom lip, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to make the other man give up his attempts to take over control of their coupling. Marcus had waited for too long for Robertus giving himself to him to make a short quickie out of this special first time, and he kept thrusting into him the slow, rolling pace he had set up, watching Robertus' face for any sign of pain or serious discomfort.

The older man grabbed the edge of the pool that hard that his knuckles turned white, but Marcus knew that it wasn't because he felt any pain, but only because everything inside the proud Roman screamed to fight against Marcus, to throw him onto his back, to take him deep and hard and make the lion his own prey again. It must have cost Robertus Levantus all of his strength to allow Marcus to be on top for at least one single time, and the young centurion still marveled about his motives.

Was it true love that made Robertus submit to him or was it because of some sense of honor or respect only?

But whatever it was, Marcus would make sure that his panther would be completely satisfied when he was done with him, and he snaked his right hand around Robertus' midsection, just to find his panther hard for him again. Marcus changed the angle of his thrusts and moved faster, stroking up and down on Robertus' hard sword in the same rhythm. The dark-haired legatus shivered in his arms, soft moans escaping his from their kisses swollen lips, and Marcus pushed his tongue into Robertus' ear, teasing the sensitive cavern until the other man threw his head back against Marcus and cried out.

Robertus felt perfect in his hand, hard flesh and velvet skin, and Marcus stroked him with rapt devotion, enjoying how the older Roman's member twitched in his fingers. His commander had never allowed him to really touch him there until this night, and Marcus' loving eyes roamed over Robertus' beautiful, male features to learn what pleasured this proud and brave Roman officer the most.

“Marcus!”

His name croaked out with so much passion and need, and Marcus' throat tightened with his own desire and love.

“Give yourself to me, Robertus, don't hold back!” he managed through gritted teeth, his body pressed against Robertus' lithe frame shaking with the need to come. He could feel his climax building at the end of his spine, and there was no way that he could hold himself back any longer. Marcus needed to come like he had never needed anything else before, the feeling of Robertus' tight walls pulsing against his rock-hard manhood too much to bear. His panther was so tight and hot, his channel massaging his cock so wonderfully, blowing Marcus' mind and making him shiver and gasp. The blond centurion moved his hand up and down on Robertus' twitching member almost frantically now, and his hips stuttered their way to his climax in fast and desperate movements to their own will.

The damp air of Robertus' private bathroom was filled with their grunts and groans of pleasure and ardor, and Marcus silenced his scream of ecstasy on his shoulder when the sensation of his panther spilling his seed all over his hand in fast spurts pushed him over the edge and into the abyss of sweet oblivion. Time stood still as Marcus lost himself in the throes of passion, the golden lion marking his prey, filling the beautiful black panther with his claim. Panthers were proud and solitary beings, not accepting anyone's claim without fighting, and that his panther surrendered so willingly to him, bending his head and taking Marcus' claim with shudders of pleasure made Marcus' heart sing and his lips whisper tender words into Robertus' ears while they savored their shared height to the fullest.

The young centurion closed his eyes and buried his face on Robertus' throat, waiting for his heartbeat to slow down again. The dark-haired legatus leaned heavily against him, loosening his grip around the marble tiles to pull Marcus' arms closer around his body instead. They stayed like this for a while, neither of them speaking, the warm water washing the traces of their passion away.

Marcus could have stayed like this forever, his sated body pressed against Robertus' warm back, but he knew that this night had to come to an end, and he slowly pulled back from the other man after one last brief but tender kiss on his fragrant skin, feeling empty and cold when they didn't touch any longer.

There was a huge lump in his throat threatening to choke him, and the blond centurion struggled desperately to keep the mask on his face and not let Robertus see his inner turmoil when he grasped the edge of the pool to pull himself out of it.

Warm fingers closing around his wrist made him flinch and turn his head around to look at his commander. Robertus gazed up at him with a tentative question in his eyes, and Marcus' heart started to beat faster.

“Please don't go, Marcus. Stay the night with me.”


	11. Purring Cats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robertus asked Marcus to stay and spend the night with him. Will Marcus agree to his wish?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am supposed to write something that needs to be finished this Thursday, but Robertus and Marcus demanded a new chapter, so I gave in and obeyed them. I hope that the outcome is worth the delay and at least a little bit enjoyable to read. Your feedback would mean a lot to me. <33

Marcus wasn't sure whether he was only dreaming this or if it was truly happening that Robertus wanted him to spend the night with him as he walked side by side with his commander to his bedroom. Marcus was pretty nervous because he had never been allowed to visit the older man's private rooms except for his private office on the ground floor in his villa beforehand, and he tried to calm himself down with deep breaths, gazing at Robertus from the side now and then while they climbed the large stairs leading to the upper floors.

The dark-haired legatus smiled briefly at him when he caught Marcus side-eyeing him with furrowed brows, his posture relaxed and his features surprisingly unguarded. “Do you fear that I will change my mind, my beautiful golden lion? Or that I am having second thoughts about this?” he asked quietly when they reached the upper floor where his private rooms were housed, and Marcus stopped for a moment, considering his words carefully.

“No, I don't think that you will change your mind, Robertus, but I must admit that I am not so sure about the second-thoughts-part. You didn't tell me the truth about my promotion before announcing it right in front of Publius Secundus more or less out of the blue, and I didn't know about my imminent mission before you mentioned it during our dinner with Secundus either. You might understand that I can't help but ask myself what you will do next and being cautious about your motives. We didn't meet any of your servants on our way, even though it is not that late, and I have the strong suspicion that you planned all of this and that you want to achieve something with your willingness to let me stay with you for the entire night.” Marcus raised his chin defiantly, not willing to backpedal and apologize for his blatant words and his implied accusation.

His commander didn't get angry like he had expected it though, he only sighed and nodded his head. “I do understand your feelings, Marcus. I hurt you and you think that I betrayed your trust, and I know that it won't come back just like that. I'll have to regain it, and you won't make it easy for me, that much is clear. Not that I would expect you to make it easy for me, my proud lion. Yes, I should have told you about your mission and your promotion beforehand, but I didn't, and there is nothing I can do to change the past and make it better, Marcus. I can only ask you for your forgiveness and for your understanding, and I don't have second thoughts about tonight. It is probably hard for you to believe, but I really want to spend the night with you, holding you close and feeling you sleep next to me. You are right with your suspicion that I planned this, but not to achieve anything, but only because I want to be together with you.”

Marcus regarded him silently and with an impassive face for a moment, unsure what to answer to Robertus' honest words. Something had changed between them – Robertus had changed over the past days - and the younger Roman was surprised how much he struggled with coming to terms with his feelings about Robertus' change.

This was what he had longed for so badly after all, and Marcus knew that he should be happy about the new Robertus who was eventually willing to show his feelings, at least the passion, respect and trust he felt for Marcus.

But as things stood, it would make it only so much harder for him to leave Robertus in a couple of days when he had to accompany Secundus' daughter to her relatives and leave the man he loved with every fiber of his being behind, very aware of the fact that the fat merchant would do everything he could do to lure his commander and secret lover into his bed.

“I want to be together with you too, Robertus. But you were so cold and impassive for months, never showing me how much you want me, and your willingness to do that now still surprises me. I'm sorry, it's just so hard for me to believe somehow, harder than I thought it would be...”

Robertus reached out with his hand to gently stroke Marcus' face. “You don't need to be sorry for anything, Marcus, so please don't apologize for your doubts. I would feel the same way as you're doing if I was in your place, I guess. You're right that I planned this night, hoping that you would say yes and honor me with your presence in my bed tonight. But not to achieve any suspicious goals with that, but only to grant us the privacy we both need and which you deserve. I don't want you having to worry about anything tonight, Marcus. All I'm asking from you is to trust me enough to enjoy this night. Do you think you can do that my beautiful lion?”

Marcus felt himself relaxing and his face softening to a smile. “Yes, I can do that, my proud panther,” he said, and the passionate look he got in return made his heart beat faster and his manhood stir again.

“Then come into my lair, lion. Come into the black panther's den and fill it with your purrs,” the older Roman said, his voice a husky promise of more pleasures awaiting Marcus if he accepted the dangerous panther's invitation, and Marcus opened the wooden door and followed Robertus into his bedroom, closing it behind them again, locking the world outside out with a quiet but firm thud.

 

***

 

Robertus hadn't really expected that Marcus would agree to his invitation and come with him to his bedroom, and his blood was rushing faster through his veins and his heart hammering in his chest on the entire way back to his private quarters in the large villa. They had dressed with their tunics again before they had left the bath but not with their loincloths, and Robertus invaded Marcus' space to pull the white linen over his head and reveal the delights that were hidden underneath as soon as they were safe in his bedchamber and the door had fallen shut behind them. He had to suppress the urge to bury his nose in the garment still warm from Marcus' body heat to inhale deeply his tempting scent that was still lingering in the soft material, feeling silly about his wish that would suit a juvenile much better than a grown up man and tough and proud warrior.

The blond centurion and soon to be official tribunus just watched him with eyes that glowed in a deep golden color, and Robertus thought that he had never looked more like the beautiful big cat Marcus reminded him of than in this moment.

“I must have done something wrong if you have still enough strength left to even think of another round, panther,” Marcus stated mockingly, but Robertus could see how his breathing sped up and his pupils dilated with desire.

“You didn't do anything wrong, my beautiful lion, but panthers are predators, and their hunger is not that easily to be sated. I hungered for you finally spending the night with me for too long to not desire you again. Besides, I really want to hear you purr for me again, Tribunus Marcus Retus,” the dark-haired legatus said in a low and throaty voice, slowly pulling his own tunic over his head and throwing it to the side. It landed next to Marcus' tunic, and Robertus liked how the two pieces of clothing entangled on the floor of his bedroom, just like their bodies would hopefully entangle on his bed any time soon again.

“Lions don't purr that easily, and not for just anybody, Robertus Levantus. I expect you to convince me that it will be worthy for me to purr for you, panther,” Marcus challenged him, and Robertus let out a low growl. “Challenge accepted, Marcus. I already know how to make you purr for me quite easily...”

Robertus surged forward to press his naked body against Marcus' lithe frame and claim his lips in another fierce kiss, using Marcus' obvious surprise to his advantage. The younger Roman's lips were still swollen and sensitive from the passionate kisses they had shared earlier this evening, and Robertus didn't give him the time to react but pushed his tongue deep inside Marcus' mouth to explore it again, imitating the act of lovemaking with his tongue. He snarled contentedly when he felt Marcus' ardent reaction to his kiss, the blond's proud weapon growing to full hardness again within a few seconds. It twitched against Robertus' hipbone with every thrust of his tongue, and the sensation of the small droplets of pleasure and desire moistening his bare skin let his own manhood harden as well, rubbing eagerly against its counterpart.

Marcus' strangled groan sounded almost angrily, and Robertus drew back a little bit and chuckled very pleased. “Ah yes, do that again, my proud lion. This was not so bad for the start. But I am sure that you can do better for me, Marcus. Purr for me and show me how much you enjoy my kisses!”

This was a clear order his beautiful tribunus didn't want to obey just like that of course, and his amber-green eyes shot angry golden fire at his commander. Several emotions flickered over Marcus' handsome and so expressive features, and he struggled hard to keep his moans of lust inside and not let them flow freely when Robertus started to stroke hims, his hands gliding over Marcus' naked body in skillful caresses.

The dark-haired legatus knew exactly how to drive his prey crazy with lust, he only needed to give his golden lion what he had missed so much for so long, his kisses and his tender caresses, and Robertus took full advantage of his knowledge and gently and almost unnoticed moved towards his bed with the trembling man in his arms, stroking, kneading and teasing his hot flesh with calloused fingers, his lips roaming over Marcus' jaw and his throat and whispering hoarse words of ardor against his damp skin.

“Purr for me, lion. Purr for me and show me how much you desire me. You're so proud and strong and beautiful, you don't know how much I want you, how much I long for your sweet purrs and your husky moans. So many, many nights I lay awake in my cold and lonely bed, yearning for your touch, your kisses and your purrs, I need you so much. You are a fever in my blood that can never be cured, a thorn in my heart that cane never be removed and a fire in my soul that can never be quenched. Give me your purrs, Marcus, please, I need you to purr for me!”

Robertus didn't know which of the things he did was the one that made Marcus finally stop fighting and melt against him, whether it was his caresses, his hot lips on the spot where the blond's pulse was racing or his hoarse confessions, but it didn't really matter to him.

What really mattered was that Marcus pulled him close to return his heated caresses, not holding back his sounds of pleasure any longer. He moaned and gasped and purred for his panther just like Robertus had dreamed of for so many nights, and both men huffed a relieved sigh when they reached the bed and fell down on it, kissing each other deep with teeth and tongues. Marcus lay flat on his bed, trapped underneath Robertus' strong body, but he didn't try to free himself and push the older Roman away.

Quite the opposite, the golden lion surrendered willingly to his captor, pulling him as close as possible and spreading his legs wide in an unmistakable invitation. The legatus with the dark hair and the piercing blue eyes hadn't really thought that his tribunus would be willing to submit to him tonight, not after what he had said during their bath. He hesitated, fearing that he might misunderstand Marcus' intentions, but the beautiful warrior smiled up at him when he opened his eyes to regard him, and his expression was soft and full of longing.

“The lion came into the panther's den, and he's willing to surrender to his captor tonight and purr for him. Come on, Robertus Levantus, make me purr for you with your thrusts!”

Marcus' words had an instant strong effect on him, and Robertus drew in a deep and shaky breath to not just lose it and keep his composure. He was aware that he wouldn't be able to keep his distance tonight if he took his golden lion now, that it would be real lovemaking tonight and not just two men fucking with each other.

Tonight, Marcus wouldn't allow him to avoid his touches and his kisses, the younger Roman's strong arms holding Robertus tight when he possessed him. Tonight, Marcus would see the lust and the love on his face when he thrust into him again and again, and tonight, the black panther would purr as much for his golden lion as Marcus would purr for him.

The blond tribunus – Robertus couldn't think of Marcus as his centurion any longer even though it wasn't official so far – just looked him in the eyes as he struggled with his feelings, waiting patiently for his commander to make up his mind and finally admit the truth – if not with spoken words, then at least with his actions and his body.

Marcus must sense how hard this was for him, and he didn't try to say anything more and persuade him, he just waited for Robertus to make his decision and finish what he had started when he had invited Marcus to come to him and bathe with him.

Asking his proud lion to stay for the night had been half of the path he had chosen to walk along, exploring the unknown and fascinating territory that lay at its end, and Robertus realized that it was too late to turn around and go back to where he had come from, hiding himself behind lame and fearful excuses for so long.

He had gone too far to be able to do that, and a tender smile spread out on his face when he bent down to kiss Marcus.

“I should prepare you, Marcus. I want your purrs of pleasure, not your groans of pain.”

The younger man shook his head. “No, I want you like this, my beautiful panther. I want to feel you as close and intense as only possible. You only need some oil and to go slow at the start.”

“Your wish is my command, my brave warrior,” Robertus whispered at his lips, silencing Marcus' passionate moan with his hot kiss as he felt for the vial with the oil he knew that Rufus had put it on his nightstand when he had prepared his Dominus' private rooms for this special night. He was grateful that the younger man didn't ask him why he kept a vial with oil on his nightstand, but Marcus probably knew him well enough to know it and not ask questions that would ruin the mood.

The dark-haired legatus lined himself up with trembling fingers, hoping that he would be able to hold himself back and make this as pleasurable as only possible for the amazing man who had shown him that there was no shame in surrendering to the one you loved, no shame in loving another man as deeply as Robertus loved Marcus.

Robertus still wasn't ready to say these three little words out loud, to admit them in his beautiful mother tongue Latin, but he could tell Marcus that he loved him in so many other different ways, with his body, his lips, his hands and even with his husky voice without speaking – his own purrs and sounds of pleasure would show the younger Roman how he felt about him.

The experienced and normally controlled and level-headed commander of the important city of Augusta Treverorum wasn't a hot-blooded juvenile any longer, and he had already come two times tonight, but he yet needed all of his self-control as he now pushed into Marcus' tight heat with his rock-hard spear, aching to sheathe it as deep inside his lover as possible – until there would not one single inch of space left between them and they would be truly one single being in every sense of the meaning.

The younger one wrapped his arms and his legs around Robertus' sweaty body, pulling him close, too impatient to feel him to let him go as slow as he had asked him to go. Marcus returned Robertus' almost desperate kiss as if his life depended on it, and his erection rubbed against the hard muscles of Robertus' abdomen with every move, leaking more milky droplets of pleasure between their connected bodies.

“Deeper, panther, as deep as you can!” his wonderful lion growled, arching his back into his thrusts, and Robertus obeyed happily, pushing all the way in with one fluent motion. Both men moaned ardently with the sensation, and Marcus chuckled breathlessly, his eyes glowing golden in the dark room.

“Make me purr, my dangerous black panther, give me a reason to make noise for you!”

Robertus hissed at this challenge like a real big cat. “I will make you mine now, my proud lion, I will make you all mine!” he snarled through gritted teeth, needing all of his strength to not just ram himself into his beautiful lover again and again. The black panther stared down at the younger Roman who looked up at him with passion suffusing his handsome features, letting out a triumphant roar and finally starting to move.

 

***

 

Marcus couldn't tear his eyes away from the glorious view of his panther moving above him, and he knew that he would never forget and always remember the wonderful sight of Robertus' face, flushed and shining with his desire and his arousal. His thick dark hair was hopelessly tousled, and his deep blue eyes sparkled like the eyes of the panther that was about to corner and conquer his prey.

The blond Roman didn't have anything against being the prey of this gorgeous wild being, and his love for his commander overwhelmed him and pulled all the purrs from him he knew that Robertus longed so much to hear them.

The memories of the many times Robertus had taken him without touching him anywhere else than with his manhood, wearing an impassive mask on his face, floated Marcus' mind, but he pushed them away, not willing to let these memories steal this precious moment from him.

Marcus knew that Robertus would never take him this way again, that he would never just fuck him again, not after this night. Their arms were wrapped tightly around each other, their bodies intertwined, Robertus' passion and desire enclosing him like a warm and soft bubble. The blond Roman didn't dare to think that Robertus really loved him, but he had started to hope that the man he loved more than his own life would love him back one day, and the willingness Robertus showed him his passion and lust with made it easy for the younger man to purr and moan for his panther and show him his own pleasure and desire.

Robertus bent down, swallowing greedily his sounds of love and ecstasy, stealing them from his lips with his deep kisses as he mirrored his hard and ardent thrusts with his tongue, claiming his mouth like he claimed his body while his own purrs and gasps tickled Marcus' tingling lips and vibrated against his chest.

“You're so beautiful, my golden lion, so, so beautiful. I desire you so much. Purr for me, lion, show me how much you want me,” Robertus murmured, pulling him closer to his body as if he wanted to crawl under his skin, and Marcus could feel the tension of an incredible orgasm build at the end of his spine. It wasn't only the sparks of hot lust every push against his most sensitive spot that aroused him so much, but more that Robertus was finally making love to him, really making love to him.

Marcus had waited so long for this to happen, for the older warrior to hold him close and kiss him while he took him, and he raised his hips and arched his back into their embrace and moaned loudly, wanting to show his panther that he was the only one for him, the only one he could ever love and desire.

“I want you, Robertus, I want you so much, my beautiful panther. Claim me, make me yours, fill me with your seed!” Marcus almost didn't recognize his own voice as hoarse and raw it was with emotion and arousal, but his harsh order had the desired effect, because Robertus went rigid above him and roared as he came hard deep inside Marcus' quivering channel, filling him with his release in hot spurts, and this was all Marcus needed to lose himself in the throes of passion as well.

“You're mine, Robertus, you are mine and I am yours!” he growled, spilling his ecstasy between their shivering bodies until he thought that he would black out from the sheer force of his love and pleasure.

The two fierce and tough warriors clung to each other for dear life, unable to let go of one another even when the almost painful waves finally subsided. Robertus buried his face in the warm crook of Marcus' neck with a sated and happy sound, and Marcus closed his eyes and inhaled his wonderful scent, kissing the damp black strands.

“I wasn't the only one purring here, my beautiful panther,” he murmured with a smirk that was audible in his voice, and Robertus chuckled quietly, raising his head to kiss the rather smug grin from his lion's lips.

“There is no shame in purring for such a delicious prey like you are, my golden lion. There is no shame in purring for your mate, Marcus Retus. The lion has proved himself more than worthy as the panther's true mate, and I feel honored that you were willing to purr for me.”

Marcus raised his hand to tenderly stroke Robertus' heated face. They were still connected, the older Roman's gaze tender when he gently and carefully pulled out of him and turned them on their side's. “I will purr for you again, Robertus, you only have to ask me.”

The dark-haired legatus pulled the covers over their slowly cooling bodies, using one corner of the cool linen to wipe away the worst mess they had made.

“I fear that I will become addicted to your purrs, my proud warrior, I must admit that I already miss them,” Robertus smiled, and Marcus chuckled happily and offered his lips for another kiss. “I will do my best to make you become addicted then, Robertus. But I really need to sleep before I can purr for you again,” he admitted with a yawn, and the deep blue eyes looking at him darkened with something that could only be love.

“You're safe in the panther's den, my beautiful lion, just close your eyes and go to sleep. No one will come here and disturb you. The black panther will protect you and watch your sleep.”

Robertus' voice was as tender as the kiss he pressed onto Marcus' forehead, and the young tribunus closed his eyes with a contented sigh, falling asleep in Robertus' protective embrace with a soft and happy smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, their battles and fights are not over for good, but Marcus and Robertus asked for some tender and intimate moments before they'll have to part when Marcus goes on his mission.


	12. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus wakes up in Robertus' arms. Will Robertus change his mind and send him away, angry that he was so weak to let Marcus stay overnight?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was asked for a new chapter of this story, and I am in the right mood for my Romans. This chapter contains a lot of sex and a little bit of plot, this story is my excuse for a lot of passionate Leweus. Marcus and Robertus are also going back to awkwardness at least partly, making it too easy for them would be only half of the fun to write.
> 
> Please don't be silent readers only and leave comments and kudos for me. <33

Marcus was trained to wake up with the first rays of the early morning light, slowly blinking his eyes open. The warm and solid pressure against his back assured him that the events of the previous night hadn't been only a pleasant and wistful dream but really happened, and the blond Roman lay completely still to savor the feeling of Robertus sleeping snuggled against him for a while longer.

Marcus could tell by the even breathing that his panther was still asleep, but the older man was as much of a trained soldier as he was, and it wouldn't take long until Robertus would stir in his arms and wake up, something Marcus feared and craved for at the same time.

Robertus had been the one asking him to stay the night with him, but the proud legatus might as well regret his weakness in the bright morning light, and Marcus couldn't help but feel cautious and tense up at the thought.

He tried to move away from the man who had trapped his heart so easily, carefully disentangling their legs to stand up. Robertus' male scent filled his nose, heavy with sex and sleep, and Marcus' body reacted to the sensation of the other Roman's half-hard cock nestling against the small of his back. He was already hardening himself again, something that shouldn't be possible after the passionate sex he had had only a few couple of hours ago.

But he was young and ardent, hopelessly in love with the fascinating legatus, and the simple and plain truth was that Marcus couldn't get enough of Robertus and their passionate encounters that were more fights than anything else most of the times.

“Where are you going?” Robertus' voice was drowsy and husky with sleep, and he let out an unwilling snarl when the blond tried to move away from him and pulled Marcus back into his arms.

“I wasn't sure about how you would feel about me still lying in your bed this morning,” Marcus admitted, but he stopped his attempts to free himself when Robertus' elegant hand crawled around his midsection in the search for his erection. He actually needed to relieve himself as well, but the pressure wasn't so bad yet that it would have forced him to leave the warm and cozy shelter Robertus' arms were for him at this point.

The legatus made in incoherent noise, his clever fingers teasing Marcus' manhood to full hardness. Warm and soft lips latched onto his neck, and Robertus' strong arm pulled him close to his chest, his hard nipples grazing over Marcus' shoulder-blades.

The younger Roman shivered, his eyes falling shut with the sensations coursing through him as Robertus caressed him with lazy strokes, still more asleep than awake. Marcus was amazed that his commander was still letting his guard down like that; because Legatus Levantus was a soldier and warrior down to his bones – probably even more than Marcus was – and the blond was pretty sure that Robertus would be wide awake, out of the bed and ready to fight within the blink of an eye if necessary.

It was clear that the impressive commander was for once fine with keeping the soldier in him at bay and be just Marcus' lover for some precious moments, and this unexpected proof of Robertus' trust aroused him incredibly. His cock was already wet around the tip and twitching with every up and down, and Marcus started to breathe faster when Robertus' hard member pressed eagerly against his butt cheeks.

“I think I remember that you'd promised me more purrs after having gotten some rest, my golden lion. What about keeping your promise and making some noise for me?” the dark-haired legatus slid his tongue into Marcus' ear, pulling another heavy shiver from him. Marcus' instant loud moan obviously pleased his panther enough, because Robertus' throaty chuckle tickling his ear and his cheek formed goosebumps on his naked arms.

“That's a good start, Marcus, but you're still sounding more like a cute tomcat than like a real lion, so I guess I have to try harder.” The older Roman began to move his hips in small jerks, his now rock-hard erection brushing against the cleft between Marcus' butt cheeks. He didn't make any attempt to actually enter Marcus, and the blond was grateful for that because he was still tender from their encounter last night. But feeling Robertus getting himself off this way added to his own arousal, and the legatus also obviously knew very well how to turn another man into a panting mess with his skilled fingers, something he had already proved to Marcus before.

Marcus loved the feeling of Robertus' calloused fingertips on his aching member, and his cock reacted forcefully to the tender teasing, leaking more wetness out of the slit and throbbing with need. More moans and gasps escaped his lips, and Robertus purred approvingly into his ear.

“Just like that, show me that you're a scary lion and not a harmless tomcat, tribunus. Open your eyes for me, Tribunus Marcus Retus, and watch me jerking you off with my hand!” Marcus' eyes flew open of their own will at the husky demand, and he couldn't hold back his strangled cry of lust when the sight of Robertus' long fingers enclosing his long and hard shaft greeted him.

Small creamy-white droplets coated Robertus' fingertips, and watching his commander pleasuring him this way boosted Marcus' desire to new levels, the way his thumb brushed over the thick and engorged red head pulling loud mewls from the younger man.

“I love it when you're making sweet noise for me, tribunus,” Robertus murmured hoarsely, his digit trailing playfully along the throbbing vein at the underside of Marcus' cock. “Such a proud and beautiful sword you have here, my golden lion, long and hard and capable of driving another warrior crazy with lust. I love to play with your weapon so much, knowing that no other man is allowed to do that!”

“No one, only you, panther!” Marcus gasped out, pushing his backside against Robertus' erection. Shudders ran down on his spine when he felt the milky dampness coating his hot skin and which proved to him that Robertus enjoyed this as much as he did.

“I won't let any other man touch you, tribunus, never. You're mine, and the panther will fight against each and every other hunter who dares to intrude on my rightfully conquered territory, you'll better never forget that, Marcus!”

Robertus' ardent words sounded like a threat and a promise at the same time, and the older Roman tightened his grip around Marcus' aching cock, but Robertus stopped his movements just when the younger one thought that his panther would allow him to come, the tip of his thumb brushing over the pulsing slit in a feather-like caress that was enough to make him shiver and moan, but not enough to send him over the edge.

“Robertus!!” Marcus' frustrated snarl earned him a pleased chuckle and a surprisingly tender kiss on his cheek.

“Come on, lion, purr louder. I know that you can do better for me.”

“Let me come, legatus!” Marcus squeezed his eyes shut, but Robertus biting rather hard into his earlobe made him snap them open again.

“You're not allowed to look away, Marcus. I told you to watch me jerking you off.” The dark-haired legatus growled dangerously, pulling an angry hiss from his lion.

“You're not jerking me off! You're teasing me!” Marcus ground out through gritted teeth, getting another chuckle and playful bite, this time right where Robertus had left his mark upon him after the unpleasant dinner with Secundus.

“Sure I am. I'm just not finishing you as quickly as you would like me to do. I'm a panther, a big cat, remember? Cats like to play with their prey as you surely know. You were the one calling me panther, so don't complain when I'm doing what big cats usually do. You're a lion, a big cat as well. Play with me, my golden lion, play with me and make me do what you want me to do with your games!” Robertus challenged him, giving Marcus' aching cock a few more teasing strokes.

They served to let a hot wave of raw lust and need shoot through the younger man, but they were not enough to finish him, his entire body screaming with the need for release when Robertus brushed his thumb over the wet tip of his member again.

Marcus growled, trying to turn around, but Robertus' strong arm kept him firmly in place. “Oh no, I like you this way, trapped in the panther's dangerous embrace. Find another way to play with me, tribunus, and perhaps I'll be in the mood then to let you turn around.”

Marcus' head was spinning with desire, the view in front of his eyes adding to the clouded feeling in his mind. His cock was so hard that it was almost painful, the sensitive slit leaking more drops with every new teasing stroke of Robertus' hand, and the blond tribunus wanted to scream with frustration. He hadn't realized that he had balled his fists until his short nails dug into his palms, and a sudden idea made him stretch out his free arm until he could feel Robertus' sweaty backside under his fingers. He began to knead the quivering flesh, jerking his hips back against Robertus' groin in the same rhythm.

“You want me to play with you, panther? Here you go!” he growled, pinching the warm flesh of the commander's perfectly rounded butt until Robertus snarled and tried to get away from his touch. “I like to play with your ass, legatus, your backside was such a gorgeous sight when I fucked you in your pool yesterday. Round and perfect, I was dreaming of taking you from behind every night!”

This wasn't the entire truth, Marcus had mostly dreamed of Robertus kissing him, stroking him like he did now and confessing his love to him, but if his panther wanted him to play with him, then Marcus would not disappoint him but prove to him that the panther and the lion were indeed both proud and dangerous big cats who knew how to play with their prey.

Robertus stifled his ardent moan on his neck, sucking at the bite mark he had left two days ago, and a contented smile curled at Marcus' mouth when he could feel his panther growing harder at his back. His fingers moved faster up and down on Marcus' cock, but the younger Roman had changed his mind about wanting this to be over as soon as possible, and he let go of Robertus' backside and moved his hips as far away from him as he could do in his trapped position.

“Don't!”

Marcus was certain that Robertus hadn't wanted to say that, and it was his turn to chuckle very pleased now. “You wanted me to play with you, panther. I'm the lion and I will show you that I am an even match to you! Let me turn around, and you'll get what you need.”

The blond held his breath, waiting for the older man's reaction. Robertus hesitated but then loosened his tight grip around Marcus' chest to let him turn around. Marcus did so instantly, pulling at Robertus' head to kiss his anger from his lips, pressing their groins together. Robertus gasped into his mouth, and he didn't object when Marcus wrapped his hand around both of their hard cocks, drawing back from his swollen lips to touch Robertus' forehead with his own.

“Watch me getting us off, commander,” he whispered hoarsely, not trying to hide the deep feelings he had for him and which were audible in his voice.

Robertus swallowed hard but grabbed Marcus' head to kiss him hard and with unrestrained passion, enclosing Marcus' hand with his own to take control of the pace Marcus was stroking them with.

The younger one let him, his eyes roaming over Robertus' beautiful features as he returned his desperate kiss. They looked each other in the eyes while they kissed with teeth and tongues, only drawing back when the tension finally became too much to bear.

Marcus could feel the heat of his approaching orgasm spreading out from the end of his spine, and Robertus' erection twitching and leaking against his own told him that his panther would come together with him. Their moans and angry hisses filled the otherwise quiet bedroom, and Marcus involuntarily clenched his fingers around Robertus' nape when the first wave of his climax washed over him.

His vision blurred with the force of his release, but he kept his eyes open and watched his pleasure erupting from his pulsing manhood and coating Robertus' member that exploded in the very same moment, the older man's hot seed intermingling with his own and rolling down on their shafts and their entangled fingers.

“Marcus!” Robertus' growl of satisfaction pulled an answering snarl from him, two proud warriors united in lust and ecstasy sharing their pleasure for a precious moment before they would withdraw behind their perfectly mastered masks of impassiveness again.

“Robertus,” whispered Marcus when it was over, wishing so badly that they could stay in Robertus' private rooms for the rest of the day that it was a physical pain in his chest.

But he needed to go, needed to leave the man he loved more than his own life before one of his men would see him come out of the villa, and Marcus swallowed down his love and his heartache and kissed Robertus hard on his lips one last time, rolling to the side and getting out of the bed with an awkward move.

“I need to go before someone comes looking for me,” he said, hoping for a split second that Robertus would ask him to stay and tell him that it didn't matter to him. But the dark-haired commander only nodded his head.

“Yes, I know, Marcus, I'll see you later in my office, we need to talk about your mission next month. Your promotion will take place the day after tomorrow, there will be a feast for the whole garrison.”

“Thank you, commander.” Marcus turned his head away, taking his tunic to pull it over his head. He needed to clean himself up, but he wanted to do this in the privacy of his own quarters without Robertus watching him.

A pair of two strong arms embracing him from behind made him flinch and Marcus tensed up, but leaned against Robertus' still naked body for comfort, unable to resist him.

“I wished you could stay, Marcus, I really wished that things were different,” Robertus murmured into his tousled hair, and somehow it felt much more intimate hearing the older man uttering his name so wistfully instead of calling him by his nickname.

“I wished that too, Robertus.”

Marcus drew back from him and the dark-haired commander didn't try to reach for him again, just stepped to the side to watch Marcus leave his bedroom.

Marcus hesitated, his hand hovering over the door handle, but he didn't turn around again, just opened the door, Robertus' intense gaze on his stiff figure still tangible when he was walking down the stairs.

 

***

 

“Are you fighting again with each other?” Marius asked him a couple of hours later when they were saddling their horses for their daily ride through the city.

Thunder snorted softly when Marcus patted his shiny neck, pushing his head against his owner's leg as though he could feel Marcus' pain and wanted to comfort him. Which his friend and faithful companion probably did, because his stallion always sensed it when Marcus felt sad and needed some comfort.

Marius swung himself onto the back of his own gelding with more elegance than most people would have given him credit for, stroking Seawind's shimmering mane.

“No, we're not, it's just – complicated,” Marcus sighed as he mounted Thunder, taking the reins in a loose grip and clicking his tongue.

“When has it not been complicated between the two of you?” Marius let him take the lead until they had ridden through the gate, pressing his heels into Seawind's flanks to close up to him.

Marcus pressed his lips to a thin line. “It's different this time. We have come much closer over the last days than I had ever thought it possible, and I don't mean only the sex with that,” he said, flinching at his rather blatant confession, but he really needed to talk to someone or he would go insane with all of the feelings he had to lock deep inside him so carefully all of the time.

Marius seemed to sense how badly he needed understanding and kind words, because he didn't make a mocking comment about not needing to have a better insight into his friend's nightly encounters with their superior, but just smiled at him.

“I didn't think that you were talking about sex only, Mars,” he assured him, his eyes scanning the street in front of them as the attentive soldier he was. Only few pedestrians crossed their way at this time of the day, most of the citizens of Augusta Treverorum preferred to spend the hours around noon in their houses like the inhabitants of the City of Rome did because of the heat, even though the climate in Germania was less hot and the midday hours were actually the best times to be spent outside the house.

“He asked me to spend the night with him!” Marcus blurted out, biting his lip when Marius shot him a warning glance because of his rather loud outburst.

“He did?” the younger one sounded surprised, and Marcus' knees buckled with relief, because he had feared that he had been watched leaving Robertus' villa after their pleasurable night and their short encounter after waking up. Marius would have known it if this had been the case, and his surprise was honest and not faked at all.

It had still been early enough when Marcus had sneaked his way through the quiet garrison, only a few legionaries busied with seeing to their duties at this time of the day, but Marcus had worried about having been too careless nonetheless. He knew the garrison well enough to make his way to his own quarters without being caught, but he had been too distracted after this memorable night to pay proper attention to his surroundings.

“And have you accepted his offer and stayed overnight?” Marius sounded astonished, and Marcus' cheeks heated up with a slight blush.

“Yes, I have.”

“Hmm, I must admit that I haven't seen this coming. His bad conscience must have hit him pretty hard, then,” Marius mused, and Marcus felt his throat tighten with disappointment.

“Do you really think that it was only his bad conscience making him ask me to stay?” he mumbled, his stinging eyes fixed on the white villas lining the street where the richest citizens of Augusta Treverorum lived.

Where Publius Secundus lived as well.

Marcus suddenly wished that he could turn around and storm back to the garrison to shout all of his hurt and feeling of betrayal into the beautiful legatus' face, but he just grabbed the reins tighter instead, pulling a reproachful neigh from his black Arab.

“The bad conscience that comes from his suppressed deep feelings for you, Marcus,” Marius' voice was calm and confident. “Our commander wouldn't risk his reputation like that if he didn't love you. You should know that by now.”

“Maybe he just wanted to see how far he can go,” Marcus gave back, the memory of their tensed and awkward farewell this morning forming a huge lump in his throat.

“Don't be silly, Mars. There are better ways for him to humiliate you than asking you to sleep in his arms for the whole night,” Marius remarked reasonably with a shake of his head, and Marcus offered him a sheepish smile in return, his shoulders relaxing gradually.

“You're probably right with that. Sorry, I'm just so confused.”

“Which is more than understandable. But I'd told you before that he feels more for you, he wouldn't be jealous of me otherwise.”

“I told him that we're only friends, Marius, and I was very clear about me expecting him to trust me in this matter.”

“I'm glad to hear that. Legatus Levantus is not the commander to punish his underlings because of some personal issues, but I am glad that he doesn't think that I am your lover any longer nevertheless.”

“No he isn't, and I wouldn't let him do that either. You're my friend, Marius, and I won't let anybody harm you.”

Marius smiled at him and was about to speak up again just when they reached the fence that surrounded Secundus' villa and the front gate opened all of a sudden.

Marcus pulled at Thunder's reins with a startled cry, and his stallion rose onto his hind legs to not crash into the sedan that appeared in front of him almost out of the blue.

The two tall and broadly built palanquin bearers stumbled, trying desperately to keep their balance, and Marcus watched the sedan toppling to the side like in slow motion, the fat merchant Publius Secundus falling out of his flamboyant palanquin and down onto the ground right on his plump rear.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Fighting back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8499970) by [GoForGoals](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoForGoals/pseuds/GoForGoals)
  * [Holding On To Hope](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10350660) by [Janie94](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janie94/pseuds/Janie94)




End file.
